Book Four: Long Expected Correspondence
by RussetDivinity
Summary: After the attack the previous spring, Hogwarts is left a shaken community. Rose Granger-Weasley is among those still badly affected and in St. Mungo's, and Scorpius Malfoy is plagued by nightmares that are no longer only of what happened. Bit by bit, he and his friends will have to learn how to have normal lives again.
1. Tales of the Past

Scorpius hadn't been able to sleep, and even though he knew it wasn't healthy to spend so much time awake, he couldn't manage to doze off. Every time he did, he would dream about Rose, and none of the dreams were pleasant. Most of them took place in St. Mungo's, but that only made them worse than the ones that took place in Hogwarts, and on that August night, just as on so many others that summer, he gave up on trying to sleep. Instead, he pulled a robe around himself and headed downstairs.

The house was silent, and he nearly held his breath as he walked, not wanting to wake his parents. His father had been busy at St. Mungo's, and his mother had been looking worried lately, and he didn't like the thought that they were worried about him. It was more likely him than anything else – though his father might be worried about his various patients – and lately Scorpius had been starting to worry about himself. He was thinner and paler than normal, and there were shadows under his eyes that told anyone who looked at him that he'd been having trouble sleeping. For all he knew, people thought he was dying.

Maybe he was.

As he walked down the hall, he was distracted from those thoughts by seeing the door to his father's study. His father barely used the room, since he spent most of his time at the hospital, so most of the time the door was closed. Tonight, however, it was open, and Scorpius couldn't resist his curiosity. He crept up and peeked through, really holding his breath this time, just in case someone noticed him.

His father stood in front of the bay window, staring out at the grounds. Scorpius would have just moved on and found someplace else to sit out the night, but then he noticed that his father's shoulders were shaking slightly, and that his father seemed to be leaning against the window instead of simply looking at it. He'd been looking rather pale and drawn too, lately, though Scorpius hadn't paid him much mind, and the guilt of not noticing that distracted him a little from his own sadness as he pushed open the door and went inside.

The study looked as though the house-elves hadn't gone in it at all; the desk was covered in unorganized papers, and there was dust all over the bookshelves. "Dad?" Scorpius whispered, sure he was speaking too quietly to be heard.

His father tensed slightly, then looked over his shoulder. "What are you doing up so late?" he asked, his voice as calm and pleasant as though they were two strangers meeting at King's Cross. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now? You need to rest." Unspoken was the fact that Scorpius likely looked like he was about to collapse where he stood.

"You should rest, too," Scorpius said.

His father gave him a small smile, and with a flick of his wand lit the candles all around the room. "I don't think that's very likely for either of us right now, is it?" he asked, and walked to one of the chairs by the desk. "Have a seat. I'd like to talk to you."

Scorpius sat in a chair covered in soft green velvet, and his father chose a harder chair that looked like it was made of ivory with gilded edges. With the light from the candles, the room grew slightly more welcoming, though the ivory and gilt wallpaper seemed somewhat cold, even with the yellow flames. Scorpius noticed a mirror on the far wall, and when he glanced into it, he saw that he looked surprisingly like old photographs he'd seen of his father at this age: pale, slender, and slightly too serious for how young he was. The only difference, of course, was that his father hadn't started to grow so serious for another few years.

"Scorpius," his father said, and Scorpius quickly looked away from the mirror. "Your mother and I have been worried about you lately."

"I'm sorry," Scorpius said at once, as though by apologizing he could erase everything that had happened over the summer. They could pretend he had been cheerful and had asked for second helpings at every meal and hadn't been found in the library some mornings, asleep with his head resting on a book.

"There's nothing you need to apologize for," his father said. "I think I ought to be the one apologizing. I haven't been the most attentive father this summer. Your mother's been here, but with her lectures, there's only so much she can do."

Scorpius nodded, a lump growing in his throat, and he knew that if he wasn't careful he would start crying. "It's okay," he said quietly. "It's just… last year…" His voice trailed off, but his father seemed to understand.

"Everyone's been shaken by that, I heard," he said. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." When Scorpius said nothing, his father reached forward and set a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with being afraid. What you faced would have terrified even an Auror… probably even Harry Potter himself." He smiled at a joke Scorpius couldn't quite understand, but then the expression vanished and he was somber again. "Professor Zahradnik sent out owls to the families of the students a few weeks ago. Your mother and I didn't tell you because… well, it hardly matters why. The letter said that she is planning to have the school open in September as usual."

Scorpius nodded again. He'd heard his parents whispering about whether they would wind up closing the school – his father had spoken often about the Chamber of Secrets – but he hadn't seriously thought that was something that could happen, even though some students had died.

His father cleared his throat and went on, "If you'd rather not return to Hogwarts next year, we would completely understand. Your mother and I would be willing to teach you here this year, or for as long as you need." His voice was calm, but Scorpius could see something that was almost terror around his father's eyes, and for just a moment, he thought he could see his father as a child, frightened and in too far over his head.

"I'll be okay," Scorpius said, but he spoke so quietly that he wasn't sure his father had heard him. Shifting nervously in the chair – which didn't feel quite comfortable enough, despite the cushions – he said, "I want to go back to Hogwarts."

"If you're sure," his father said, and Scorpius knew this would be his one chance to back out. If he changed his mind now, he could spend the rest of the year in Malfoy Manor, where he would be safe from anything that might try to kill him. He wouldn't have to walk through the halls where he had tried to escape the thing from another world, and he wouldn't have to think about what Rose had done for him. He could have a little sanctuary from the rest of the world, and maybe he would be able to sleep a whole night through.

He wouldn't have a chance to see Albus or Ruby, and for a moment he even wanted to see James, if only to learn how Rose was. He knew he could hear from Albus, but for some reason he thought James would be less likely to lie to him, at least about something like this. James cared about Rose, and just from looking at him, Scorpius might be able to tell what had happened to her.

"I'm sure," he said, and his voice sounded stronger than he was used to. His father smiled, and it looked so much like a real smile that Scorpius couldn't help returning it, even if only weakly.

"I'm proud of you," he said. "For being a Slytherin, and for being a Malfoy, and for being a better man than I ever was." The smile faded a little, but he still looked more relaxed than he had been. "I agree, by the way. You ought to go back to Hogwarts. It'll be good for you to be with your friends again. Staying locked in here isn't healthy."

Scorpius could have protested, but he knew his father was right. He had been staying locked up inside. Through all of June, he hadn't left the house, and even in July and August he had barely gone outside. The few times he did, he stayed close to shadows and kept away from people. "I've missed Albus and Ruby," he said, shifting again in the chair. It felt a bit strange to admit that, especially since they'd largely stopped writing to him. He hadn't given very good responses to their letters, and that could have been a good part of why, though he'd still thought they would keep writing to him. Maybe things would be different when he saw them again.

"I'm sure they've missed you, too," his father said, getting to his feet. Scorpius rose as well, though it was to keep his father from leaving. He hadn't thought he would ask, but now that there might not be another chance – he couldn't remember a time when they'd talked like this before, and it might not happen again for years – he wanted to try.

"Dad –" he said, and broke off, nervous that he would be told to go back to bed and get some sleep.

His father didn't dismiss him, though, but paused by the desk. "Yes?"

"How's Rose doing?" He tried not to sound too eager, but he could hardly help it. He wanted to believe that she was recovering well, that she would be at King's Cross on September first with the rest of the Potters and Granger-Weasleys, that she would run up to see him and apologize for not writing, that they would ride in the same compartment together and find something to talk about that wouldn't involve her having to stay in the hospital or him barely speaking to anyone except his own family. She had to be there, and there had to be some reason for his father not telling him that she was perfectly fine now and would be able to leave the hospital any day.

Maybe she already had left and was just too busy spending time with her family to get in touch with him, but she would soon, and as soon as she did, he would write the longest letter he could to her, and then he would write to Albus and Ruby, even if Apollo exhausted himself carrying all of them.

His father's face fell, and Scorpius knew at once that the news wouldn't be good. "That's right," he said quietly. "She's your friend. I should have known you'd ask about her sometime."

"Well?" Scorpius asked. His legs were shaking, and he knew that if the news was anything less than good, he would drop back into the chair. Even if the news was excellent, he might well lose whatever strength his legs had from surprise and relief, but he still had to know. Every second his father hesitated was like a hand pressing down on his throat, and he felt as though he would stop breathing at any moment.

"She's still alive," his father said finally, "but she hasn't regained consciousness. As far as I can tell, nothing's changed since she first arrived."

Scorpius heard his father's words, and he understood them, but they seemed to come from a long way off, and before he knew it, he was sitting in the chair, his head spinning. He could hear someone calling his name and feel a hand on his shoulder, but he couldn't focus on whoever was trying to get his attention.

Rose was alive.

Rose hadn't woken up.

Rose wouldn't be going back to Hogwarts.

"I'm fine," he said suddenly, the words startling even him, and he realized just then that his father had been asking whether he was all right. Cheeks flushing with embarrassment, he shrugged his father's hand away and added, "Really. I just… I'm fine."

"Scorpius, if something's wrong…" His father's voice trailed off, and he sighed before returning to the ivory chair. "I was only a few years older than you when the Dark – when Vol – when I was told to kill Albus Dumbledore. At first I was excited. I thought I would have a chance to prove myself, that I would finally show everyone what I could do, how strong a wizard I was. But I couldn't manage to do it, and after a while, the thought of death wouldn't stop hanging over my head. You've heard a bit of what happened, I suppose, but not everything, and you're too young to know all that happened during that part of my life. The only reason I'm telling you now is that I'm worried for you.

"What happened to you and what happened to me are two very different things, and I would never try to say that they're anything alike, except that they're both something no child should have to worry about. You're still a child, Scorpius, and even though I would never have allowed anyone to tell me so, I was a child then. You should be worried about some pretty girl and whether you'll pass your exams, not whether your friend will live or die."

The lump had returned to Scorpius's throat, but he wasn't sure whether he ought to cry. He hadn't cried in front of his parents all summer, not since that moment at King's Cross, and he felt uncomfortable with doing so now. He'd always been able to duck into another room or slip away quietly whenever he felt as though he might start crying, but he couldn't exactly do so now that his father was looking right at him.

His father sighed and got to his feet again. "I'm sorry. Your mother tells me I tend to talk too much late at night. I'm afraid my thoughts tend to get away from me." He smiled, and Scorpius tried to return the expression, but his mouth started trembling and he quickly pressed it into a line, hoping his father hadn't noticed. Whether he had or not, he went on, "I know it's not quite the right season, but would you like to join me for some hot chocolate in the kitchen? It might help you get some sleep."

"Sure," Scorpius said, and though his voice broke, he was able to keep his composure long enough for his father to head out the door. After a moment, he got to his feet and followed, trying to ignore the tears stinging at his eyes and how often he found himself sniffling and shaking.

This was far from the first time he had snuck out of bed late at night. The first time hadn't even been this summer; it had been when he was nine years old and couldn't sleep, though then it had been for some silly, childish reason. He couldn't remember what it had been, only that he had been too excited to go to sleep and had decided to creep about the house in his pajamas. That night had been like a great adventure, and he had somehow gotten away with going through every room in the house and returning to bed without getting caught. Everything had been strange in the night, but it had been strange and wonderful. Anything could have hidden in the shadows, and so he had imagined only exciting things. He'd let himself laugh as loudly as he wanted and run as quickly as he pleased, and when he had returned to bed, he had fallen asleep smiling.

Tonight, everything was still strange in the dark, but it didn't remain strange for very long. Every time they passed a group of candles, his father would flick his wand, and they would spring to life as the candles behind them extinguished themselves. They walked in a perpetual circle of light, and this time, when he looked at the shadows, Scorpius imagined either horrors waiting there or nothing at all, and he couldn't tell which would be worse.

There were house-elves awake in the kitchen, and one was more than happy to make two cups of hot chocolate, complete with a dollop of heavy cream and a sprinkling of cinnamon on top. Neither father nor son spoke as they drank, though Scorpius found it almost amusing to see that the chocolate had left an imprint of a mustache on his father's face. When he saw his father almost smiling, he realized he must have one of his own and quickly licked it away. Once the mugs were empty, the house-elf whisked them away, and the two of them went upstairs.

Scorpius's father walked him to his bedroom, gave him a quick hug, and said, "Good night." Scorpius mumbled something in reply before going into his room and closing the door. Whether it was from the hot chocolate or his lack of sleep catching up to him, Scorpius was exhausted, and he didn't even bother to pull aside the light blanket or take off his slippers before falling onto his bed and closing his eyes.

He still couldn't sleep, but his eyes wouldn't open and his body wouldn't move. For several minutes, it was almost peaceful to lie so still, but suddenly his own body became claustrophobic, and he wanted nothing more than to be out of bed again and roaming the halls. But he couldn't rise; he couldn't even make his finger twitch. He could only lie still, every breath catching in his throat, waiting for someone to decide that he simply wasn't going to wake up and wasn't worth the effort.

When he woke screaming, it was well into the day, and warm sunlight filled his room.


	2. Tales of Heroes

Despite what Scorpius had said, when September first came, anxiety latched onto his mind, and he couldn't shake it. It was a sort of anxiety he'd never felt before, the kind that clung to his thoughts every hour, hiding in the back of his mind and suddenly returning when he least expected it. A conversation about the weather on the trip to Hogwarts – it was meant to rain that day – didn't affect him at all, but as he was folding his socks, he would suddenly begin trembling and be unable to stop. Going to Diagon Alley was easy, but watching Apollo fly around the ground of Malfoy Manor at night or reading through his books early reminded him of Rose, and he'd feel sick to his stomach with worry. He hadn't had much of an appetite all that summer, and now it nearly left him entirely. If it hadn't been for his mother saying that if he didn't start eating better they wouldn't send him at all, he might have not eaten anything the last week of August.

Even so, when he stepped out into the rain at King's Cross on September first and pulled his trunk and Apollo's cage out of the car, he looked even gaunter than he had at the start of summer. He caught the nervous glances of both his parents and tried to smile at them, but he couldn't manage anything more than a slight twitch of his lips that vanished almost at once. His father gave him a brief nod, and his mother managed a better smile, but she still looked anxious, and for the first time, he realized they might be worried about something besides his health. The past two years, after all, had included pirates and an attack from something no one could understand, and this next year might be even more dangerous.

"I'll be all right," he said quietly as they headed across the parking lot. His parents both held umbrellas, but there wasn't quite enough room for Scorpius to fit under one, and rain ran through his hair and dripped onto his face. Apollo looked slightly ruffled, but Scorpius had done his best to keep him dry.

"If you need anything at all, just write to us," his mother said, wrapping her arms around him. She didn't have to bend quite as low as she had before, and Scorpius realized he must have grown a little over the summer. It would explain why his clothes didn't fit quite as well as they had. "If you need any extra money for Hogsmeade, or if there's anything you forgot, or…" Her voice faltered, but she pushed on, "Or if you want to come home."

Scorpius nodded. "Okay," he said, and tried not to start crying. There wasn't enough rain to hide it, and he didn't want her to think he was nervous, even though he was, so much that his heartbeat was probably shaking his whole body.

His father came up to him next, and their hug was briefer, but Scorpius still found it hard to let go. "I'll make sure you know how Rose is doing," his father said, and Scorpius quickly turned away to wipe some tears from his eyes. Neither of his parents looked embarrassed to see him crying, but his mother did look almost as though she pitied him. Though he was sure it ought to bother him to be pitied, he found that he didn't really mind, and if he'd known how to accept it, he would have.

"Thanks," he said, when he thought he could speak clearly. "You'll tell me even if it's bad news, right?" But it couldn't be bad news, he thought as he looked up at his father's face. There wasn't any chance that something bad would happen to Rose, because Rose was much too bright and wonderful for that. She was much too alive for anything worse to happen to her, and there were too many people who needed her back.

"I will," his father said, and his voice didn't sound fatherly just then but strong, like a Healer's ought to. "You ought to get on the train. The rain's only going to get worse, and I don't think your owl likes being wet very much."

They did share a smile then, and Scorpius hurried off through the crowds to get onboard, not daring to look back and see whether his parents were still there to see him off or whether they had already turned and gone back to the car. He wasn't sure which he wanted, and he certainly wasn't sure whether he would be able to keep from turning and running back to them if they were still there when he looked.

King's Cross was far quieter than it had been in previous years, and most of the students there were either among the older years or first years. Good-byes were more solemn and more drawn-out, and more than once Scorpius passed whole families leaving without having gotten onto the train. Sometimes it was the parents pulling the children away, despite half-hearted protestations that everything would be all right, but other times he it was the students who were eager to leave. Some looked stricken, others were doubled over in the middle of nervous breakdowns, and a few had sharp looks on their faces, as though they were doing something both very right and very wrong.

When he saw a familiar group of people, he stopped suddenly, ignoring Apollo's annoyed hoots at how much rain was getting into his cage. Scorpius felt as though he couldn't move, and people stepped carefully around him, doing their best to keep out of his way. He ought to turn and head back, because there was no way he could face this, but he couldn't manage to tear his eyes away from the Potters and Weasleys.

James Potter was the first he recognized, with his hands on the shoulders of two first-years. One, a boy, had curly brown hair and was sniffling. The other was a girl with dark hair in two braids, and she held the boy's hand tightly. Rain had speckled her glasses, and James's hand was tighter on her shoulder than on the boy's. Next to them stood Albus, who looked thinner and paler than at the end of the previous year, and around them was a cluster of four adults. Harry Potter was easy to recognize, his hair not managing to cover his scar, and Ginny Potter stood next to him, speaking quietly to James. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger-Weasley were talking to the little boy, and for a moment, Scorpius was able to simply watch them without being noticed.

Then James turned, and his gaze met Scorpius's, and it was filled with so much venom that Scorpius pulled back nervously, nearly tripping over his own feet. The rest of the family noticed James's attention and turned to look, and Scorpius felt as though he was being watched by the whole world rather than half a dozen people.

"That's him," James said after a moment. "Malfoy." There was undisguised hatred in his voice, and Scorpius took another step back, wondering just what he had done to deserve that. He glanced at the rest of the family, expecting the same, but the two younger children only looked confused, and Albus looked as though he couldn't decide whether he wanted to smile or cry. The adults all had the same pitying looks his mother had, and Harry Potter's face softened. He took a step forward and looked about to say something, but Scorpius didn't give him the chance. He turned on his heel and ran, scrambling onto the train as quickly as he could.

There were plenty of empty compartments, and it was easy enough for Scorpius to stumble into one and drop his trunk on the floor. He set Apollo's cage down more gently, and after a moment of listening to the owl's indignant hooting, he opened the door and dug a shirt out of his suitcase. The owl consented to be dried, and afterward he perched on the trunk, preening his still-damp feathers.

"Sorry, boy," he said quietly, dropping onto a seat and pulling his knees up to his chest. "I guess I wasn't thinking about you. We're still friends, right?" He extended a finger to the bird, and Apollo nipped it lightly, which brought a faint smile to Scorpius's face. "Well, that's one."

The door to the compartment slid open then, and Scorpius jumped, flinching slightly, though he relaxed when he saw Ruby enter. She had grown again, though not as much as over the previous summer, and rain dripped from her now-short dark hair. She looked tired, but she smiled when she saw him and wrapped her arms around him in a hug as soon as she had put her trunk down. It was tight enough that Scorpius couldn't breathe, and there seemed to be almost something angry about it, even though she held onto him as though she couldn't ever let go.

"Hi," he gasped, and when she pulled back, he saw that she looked mildly annoyed. "What?"

"You didn't write to me!" she said, cuffing his shoulder. "I kept sending you letters, and you barely sent anything back, and then you just stopped writing, and I didn't know if you were angry at me or if something had happened…" Her voice broke, and Scorpius looked away, his cheeks growing hot.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not sure what else he could say.

"I mean, even Albus wrote to me," she went on, squeezing some water from her hair onto the seat. "Sure, he didn't write often, but at least he wrote. It's like you dropped off the face of the world back in July."

"I'm sorry," he said, and tried to shrink away from how loud his voice had been. It at least got Ruby to stop lecturing him, and he was glad for the moment of quiet. When Apollo went back into his cage and allowed him to close the door, that bought him another moment, and he held onto both as long as he could. "It's just… things have been difficult this summer."

"Things have been difficult for all of us," Ruby said gently, and she set a hand on his arm. "You won't hide this year, right? You'll hang out with me and Albus?" Her blue eyes were wide and pleading, and Scorpius knew she was sure he had already decided to shrink away and spend the whole year by himself and was trying whatever she could think of to change his mind. The worst of it was that he had been considering avoiding Albus and Ruby, just because they would remind him too much of Rose.

"I'll try," he said quietly, and Ruby smiled again. This time he managed to smile back, and that only made her smile grow.

"Good," she said, settling back and looking out the rain-lashed window. "We've been really worried about you. I'm pretty sure Albus and I each wrote five inches of parchment about what you might be doing in our letters."

Scorpius's stomach clenched, and he looked out the window as well, if only so he wouldn't have to meet Ruby's eyes. He hadn't realized that other people would be worried about him if he stopped responding to their letters. "How is Albus?" he asked after a moment, when he realized Ruby wasn't going to go on talking. "He looked tired when I saw him."

"I'd say you should ask him yourself, but he hasn't gotten here yet." Ruby shifted on the seat. "He said he was going to sit with me when I found you, but maybe his brother wants to keep an eye on him. Or maybe his sister won't let him leave. Have you met her yet? She's a sweet kid, but she's kind of nervous about coming to Hogwarts. Not as nervous as her cousin, though." Ruby sighed. "Rose's little brother. The poor kid started crying when he got on the train."

Scorpius closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cool window. He didn't want to hear how hard it was for everyone else. He wanted to curl up somewhere and hide, to feel as sorry for himself as he pleased. They hadn't been the ones Rose almost died for. They hadn't been the ones who she told to run and who had been so sure she would be right with them any moment. He couldn't tell whether he was being selfish or had every right to be annoyed at two first years, and as the train sped up, he started to wish he hadn't eaten both of the waffles the house-elves had served him. Maybe one would have been enough to keep his parents from worrying about him.

The compartment door opened, and when Scorpius looked over his shoulder, he saw Albus, carrying a trunk and looking as though he wanted to slap someone. "It's about time you got here," Ruby said as Albus dropped onto the seat across from her. "What kept you so long?"

"James," Albus said, and there was almost as much bitterness in his voice as Scorpius had heard when James said _Malfoy_. "He doesn't think I should hang out with you anymore."

Ruby scoffed. "What's he got against me? Am I too much of a nerd?"

"A what?" Before she could answer, Albus shook his head. "It wasn't you, anyway. It's Scorpius. He hates you for some reason, even more than normal. I've seen James hate people, and this is different. This is kind of scary." His expression slipped, and he suddenly looked as young as he was and as scared and tired as Scorpius felt. "I think the only reason he let me go is that he didn't want to start fighting with me in front of Lily and Hugo. They're both pretty sensitive, especially after… you know." He shrugged and glanced nervously from Scorpius to Ruby, then back. "So… what did you do this summer? I tried to write you, but you didn't write back."

"I did until July," Scorpius said, though he knew it wasn't a good enough answer. "I didn't do much. Just hung around my house." For a moment he thought of lying and saying that he had been fine, that he had taken care of the peacocks and gone to Wales for a few weeks, and everything had been perfectly normal, but he didn't have the energy to. "What did you do?"

"We stayed in London for a while," Albus said. "James kept sneaking out of the house to go visit Rose, and Dad decided things would be easier if we were all over there. Lily and I didn't want to go as much as James did, so we spent a lot of time in Diagon Alley, at Uncle George's shop." He swallowed and looked out the window. The landscape was drab and gray, and Scorpius knew he would have much preferred to be watching his friends, but he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away, and neither could the others.

After a long moment of silence, Ruby said, "My family went out to Wales this year. We went all over the country. Cardiff's beautiful, and I had to be cheerful so they wouldn't notice. I don't think they'd have sent me back if they'd thought anything was wrong. I think they noticed something was up, though. I'd keep waking up in the middle of the night, and I couldn't fall back asleep." She looked around at the other two, and Scorpius pulled his knees even tighter against his chest, hoping Albus would speak first, or that Ruby would go on talking all the way to Hogwarts, or that he could turn into mist and fade away to nothing.

But Albus was silent, and Ruby didn't say a word, and he remained just as tangible as he had been a moment before. "I've been having nightmares, too," he said quietly. "My parents don't know. At least, they haven't said anything. I think they've been worried, though." He knew they were still worried, but if he didn't admit it, then perhaps he wouldn't have to feel guilty about it, and maybe Albus and Ruby would stop worrying about him.

Albus shrugged. "It hasn't been as bad for me, I guess. James has it the worst in our house." He scooted a bit closer to the window, though he could also have been trying to get closer to them. "Do you… I know this sounds stupid, but do you want to play Exploding Snap? I have to do something, and I don't really want to read."

"I don't have any cards," Scorpius said, and Ruby reached into her trunk. A moment later, she pulled out a small deck of cards and started shuffling them.

"They're not magic," she said as she dealt seven cards to each of them, "but maybe we could play a Muggle game. It's for kids, but it's still pretty fun." Her voice was too cheerful, but Scorpius didn't mind all that much. "Have either of you ever played Go Fish?"

Both of them shook their heads, and Ruby spread the remaining cards out on the top of her trunk and started explaining the rules. It had to be one of the simplest card games Scorpius had ever played, but it distracted him, and he barely noticed when they finally arrived at Hogwarts. The three of them quickly pulled their robes on and filed out of the train, and as they got into the carriages, Scorpius found himself almost looking forward to returning to Hogwarts.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of James and saw nothing but hatred in the boy's eyes. Feeling sick again, he slid lower in his seat, and even Ruby's nervous smile couldn't cheer him up.


	3. Of Beginnings

It was still raining when the carriages arrived at Hogwarts, and the students pelted through puddles to get into the Great Hall. Scorpius was soaked through by the time he and Albus reached the Slytherin Table, and Heather Morris, one of the Prefects, was bustling up and down the table and magically drying people off. Her charm didn't warm Scorpius at all, but at least his clothes were dry, and Albus looked a little refreshed afterward, though not by much.

There wasn't the usual chatter before the Sorting, and as Scorpius looked around, he saw that the tables looked far emptier than he was used to. "How many people had to stay home?" he whispered to Albus. It didn't seem like a night for speaking in anything above a whisper, and even that felt too loud. He ought to be silent and say nothing at all so that his voice didn't bother anyone.

"I don't know," Albus whispered back. "Mum wanted Lily to stay home, but Dad said she was old enough to make her own choice. Hugo only came because Lily did." He shifted nervously and toyed with his fork. "Mum wanted me to stay home, too, and I think James is only here because I am."

"Why are you here?" Scorpius asked, though his throat felt as though it was about to close and he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"I didn't know if you'd be here," Albus said. "If you were, I knew I couldn't just leave you alone. Ruby would be here, and I guess the two of you would be okay, but I still didn't want it to be just you and her. You look like you'd get lonely too easily." Albus glanced sideways at Scorpius as though afraid he'd offended him, but Scorpius only felt his heart sink because Albus was right. "Anyway, what about you? Would you have stayed home?" His voice shook a little, and he quickly set down the fork.

"I don't know," Scorpius said. "My father said I could if I wanted to, but I missed you and Ruby."

"I missed you, too," Albus said, his voice so low Scorpius could barely hear him. "So did Ruby." He looked up, then, a sudden sharpness in his green eyes, and he had just opened his mouth to speak when the doors to the Great Hall opened and a group of first years entered. Albus quickly closed his mouth and looked away, though he did smile and wave a little when his sister waved to him.

There were fewer first years than previous feasts, but more than Scorpius had expected. As they marched up to the Sorting Hat, Scorpius let his mind wander, and he only caught a few of the names and nothing at all of the hat's song.

"Dale, Charlotte!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

A red-haired girl scurried over to the Hufflepuff table, where she was greeted with a few hugs. She smiled nervously at everyone as she settled into her seat.

"Lewis, Arabella!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Albus scooted over a little so a small girl could squeeze in next to him. She didn't look as apprehensive as previous Slytherins Scorpius remembered, and he couldn't tell whether that was at all a good thing or if he ought to be worried about that. Their house wasn't feared anymore, but only because there were things far worse than Slytherins in the world now.

"Potter, Lily!"

Albus tensed as his little sister walked up to the stool. She looked tough and brave, and Scorpius couldn't help thinking she would wind up in Gryffindor, like all the other Potters but one. She didn't look as nervous as the other first years had, and as she sat down, he thought he saw a small smile on her face. Then the hat dropped onto her head, sliding even past her glasses, and for a long moment, everything was silent.

Then the hat called, "RAVENCLAW!"

The Ravenclaw table at once burst into applause, and a few other students joined them. Albus looked about ready to leap out of his seat and give his sister a standing ovation, and his smile was so excited that little Arabella Lewis shied away from him, bumping into a sixth year.

"I can't believe it," Albus said once the applause had died down and Professor Zahradnik was calling out names again. "Though, I guess I can, really. Lily's always been the smart one in the family."

James didn't look all that pleased, and Scorpius suspected he had wanted his little sister to follow him into Gryffindor, though Scorpius couldn't help fearing the glare the oldest Potter sent across the Great Hall was directed at him rather than at Lily or Albus. He shrank back a little, and though it might have been just his imagination, he thought he saw a bit of satisfaction on James's face.

"Quinn, Isaac!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Isaac Quinn was a scrawny blond boy, and he sat down next to Lily, as though the two of them – so far the only two Ravenclaw first years – were pitted against the rest of the school. For all Scorpius knew, they might be, and he felt a little sad and a little sick at the thought of the two of them having to face any sort of danger.

"Weasley, Hugo!"

Again Albus tensed, and the curly-haired boy Scorpius had seen at King's Cross walked up to the stool. He must have let his mind wander again, for there were only a few first years left, and he certainly remembered seeing a couple dozen there before. Hugo looked far more nervous than his cousin had, and not even Professor Zahradnik's reassuring smile could keep him from shaking. He looked almost on the verge of tears, and it was something of a relief when the hat slid down over his face. After that, a long silence filled the hall, and everyone leaned forward, waiting for the hat to speak.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Albus let out a long sigh and slumped slightly as Hugo leapt off the stool and ran to join the Hufflepuffs. "Well, that's a relief," he said after a moment. "They'll be nice to him. He's been terrified ever since Rose… well, you know. I don't think he could have lasted as a Gryffindor."

Scorpius nodded, but his mind was already wandering, and James was still glaring at him. If there was a chance for him to slip away, he would have gladly taken it, but before he knew what was happening, the Sorting was over and Professor Zahradnik was heading to her chair. Everyone in the hall perked up, no doubt ready for her to give her speech so they could eat, but for several seconds she simply stood at her table, looking out at the students. No one seemed at all impatient, and even though Scorpius could feel a hollow ache growing in his stomach, he was content to wait. He felt as though he could wait forever, and just as he was starting to realize that the thought probably wasn't the healthiest he could have had, Professor Zahradnik began to speak.

"I'm glad so many of you came back," she said, and though her voice was weary, she was able to smile, and Scorpius felt as though she truly meant what she said. "Some of you may have heard this, but others, for whatever reason, likely don't know that Hogwarts was very nearly closed over the summer. I think it would be best to be honest with you all, as even the youngest among you are old enough to have earned the right to know what is happening at Hogwarts." Her smile became a little more wry as she added, "My predecessor would have called this place a home away from home, and while I sincerely hope the castle will remain that for a good many of you, I also sincerely believe any home ought to be safe.

"I wish I could tell you that Hogwarts is perfectly safe. However, as the attack by an otherworldly creature proved, that isn't so. I'm afraid no place in this world is perfectly safe, but I will do my best to make Hogwarts as safe a place as possible. There are multiple enchantments on this place, and there will be Aurors patrolling the halls and grounds. They are good men and women, all of them, and dedicated to your safety. I assure you, they will be far safer than other measures the Ministry has suggested in the past."

A few people laughed, and even Albus managed a chuckle. "I'll explain later," he whispered as Professor Zahradnik went on.

"Tonight, however, I don't want us to look to the past and see what sort of danger we faced. If we must do that, then I would like us to draw strength from that danger. We lost many good friends last spring, but they would not have wanted us to give in to despair. This year is about new beginnings. Classes will continue as normal, and I will do my best to ensure that life at Hogwarts returns to normal. I won't lie to you and say there is nothing to fear. That would be an insult to your intelligence and to those who were hurt and killed in the attack last spring. I will say that we can move past that fear and be strong enough to overcome it. Whether you are Gryffindors or some other house, you can all be brave. Whether you are Ravenclaws or some other house, you can all be intelligent. Whether you are Hufflepuffs or some other house, you can all be loyal. And whether you are Slytherins or some other house, you can all have the ambition to make Hogwarts – and this world – a better place for us all."

With that, she sat down, and for a moment, no one moved. Then someone began to applaud, and the sound was taken up by everyone in the hall. Scorpius found there were tears in his eyes, and he quickly wiped his face on the shoulder of his robe before anyone could comment on it. The food appeared a moment later, and everyone began loading their plates with the feast, granting him another reprieve.

It wasn't enough of one, however. As Scorpius began nibbling at some lamb, Eoin Ellis, a high-voiced second year sitting across from him, asked, "Is that all you're eating?"

Scorpius glanced up and down the table and saw that everyone else's plates were piled high with food. Even Albus had about twice as much as he did, and little Eoin might wind up too stuffed to walk if he managed to finish everything. Scorpius had barely enough for a normal meal at his house, and even with that, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to eat it all. "I'm not very hungry," he mumbled, and ducked his head slightly, hoping to hide his nervousness with a dinner roll.

To his relief, Eoin didn't pursue the issue, but Albus took it up a moment later, speaking in a mercifully lower voice than Eoin had. "It isn't very much, you know. You already look like you're starving yourself." Albus looked worried, and Scorpius thought he saw pity in everyone's eyes when they glanced at him, even though he couldn't tell whether they were actually looking at him or simply happened to have their gazes in his general direction.

"I'm fine," he said, wishing he could shrink a little more. "I'm just not hungry."

"Just don't start passing out, okay?" Albus asked. "You have to take care of yourself." He took a large bite of mincemeat pie and chewed slowly before adding, "I've got to take care of myself now, so you have to, too. Okay?"

"Okay," Scorpius said quietly. Albus looked a bit more relaxed after hearing that, and while Scorpius did his best to finish everything on his plate, he only made it through about two-thirds before dinner vanished and was replaced with dessert. He did have a bit more of an appetite for that, or thought he did, but wound up losing it after only a few bites of chocolate cake. With a sigh, he got up and slipped out of the Great Hall, hoping no one would notice him leaving. No one commented on it, so he thought he had a good chance of escaping unseen.

He managed to slip away, and he made it back to the common room without anyone following him. Instead of hanging around and waiting for someone to join him, he went straight to the dormitory, changed into his pajamas, and curled up under his blankets. The dungeon was mildly cold, as usual, and he found that he couldn't fall asleep. It was because of the cold, he told himself, not because he no longer felt as though he could be at home there.

Rose wasn't there. He would have to spend a year without her, and he wasn't sure how he could manage that.

Several minutes later, he heard people arriving and quickly turned away from the door, closing his eyes. He didn't want anyone to come up to him and ask if there was anything they could do to help. He had told his father that he would be fine, and he didn't want to start falling apart on the first night back.

"I didn't actually see anything," Albus said, sounding anxious, and Scorpius's stomach clenched, sure he knew what they were talking about. "I only heard about what happened later on."

"Scorpius was there," Patrick Walmot, another fourth-year said.

"And you're not going to ask him about it," Albus snapped. "Got it? If he wants to talk about it, then he'll talk, but you don't get to bring it up first."

"Okay, fine," Patrick said. "I'm not dumb enough to just start talking about something like that around him. I just thought he might have told you, and then you could tell me." There were the faint sounds of other conversations around the room, and of trunks being opened and closed, and Scorpius tried to press his face deeper into his pillow.

"He hasn't," Albus said. "Even if he had, I wouldn't tell you unless he'd said I could."

The conversation trailed off after that, and Scorpius lay still as the other boys got into their own beds and fell asleep. He was the last one still awake, and it took nearly an hour for him to even start to doze off.

* * *

The next morning they had no classes, and when Scorpius woke, his stomach felt pinched and empty. Everyone else had already left the room, and for a long while he lay still, debating whether he ought to get out of bed and get breakfast. He knew he couldn't just lie in bed and slowly starve, but at the moment, he couldn't think of any option that sounded better. He wasn't rested, but he couldn't stay asleep any longer, and the most convincing reason he could think of for getting out of bed was because every time he tried to close his eyes they wouldn't stay closed.

Then he heard someone moving behind him and tensed, lying as still as he could. Maybe whoever was there would think he was still asleep and leave him alone, giving him a few extra minutes before he had to talk to anyone. He would have to deal with other people, he knew, but he wanted to put it off as long as possible.

"I know you're awake," Albus said, and Scorpius sighed from disappointment.

"What time is it?" he asked, not moving.

"After breakfast." The bed shifted slightly, and Scorpius supposed Albus must have sat down beside him. "Are you hungry?"

"No." He pulled himself closer to his pillow. Maybe he could still fall asleep again if he tried hard enough.

"I brought you some food anyway." A moment later, Scorpius smelled cinnamon and blueberries, and despite what he had said, his stomach growled. Then he smelled chocolate and raspberries and walnuts, and when he rolled over, he saw Albus setting up a small feast on his bed. "I wasn't sure what you might want, so I just picked out everything that looked good."

It all looked very good, from the blueberry cinnamon rolls to the toast with marmalade to what looked like fudge covered in raspberries and filled with nuts. Scorpius's stomach growled again, and he nearly reached out to grab whatever was closest. "Why did you bring all these up here?" he asked.

"Because we've got to look after each other," Albus said. He must have eaten already, but he grabbed one of the rolls and ate half in one bite. "It's what we all do, or what we would do if we'd had to before now." He swallowed the mouthful, then stuffed the rest of the roll into his mouth. "We really do have to look after each other now, though, so that's what I'm going to do. I'll look after you and Ruby, and Ruby will look after us, and you don't have to look after anyone if you don't think you can. Just make sure you eat something."

Scorpius picked up one of the rolls and took a small bite. It was still warm, so he couldn't have missed breakfast by too much, and that bite reminded him of just how hungry he was. "Did you and Ruby work all this out while I was sleeping?"

"Yeah," Albus said, setting into some of the fudge. "It's not raining anymore, so we're all going to hang out by the lake. We set that up, too." He grinned and started picking raspberries off the chocolate. He still looked tired, but he was happy, at least, so Scorpius supposed he ought to at least try to keep up with the two of them. The food did help, and he soon felt almost ready to see Ruby.


	4. Of Friends

The first weekend back was much easier than the first night had been. Even though the school was far quieter than Scorpius was used to and even though some of the stones were far colder than usual, it was easy to make himself at home there again. It still bothered him when people looked at him as though they were worried he might suddenly collapse, but it wasn't as troubling as the way his parents had looked at him back home. At Hogwarts, at least, there wasn't the weight of fourteen years of responsibility hanging on those looks.

At Hogwarts it was easier to hide.

But he found he couldn't get away with hiding very often. Albus always turned up to drag him out of whatever melancholy he had managed to settle into, and Ruby was there as well to give cheer to both of them. She looked far more cheerful than Scorpius thought she had any right to be, but by Sunday she confided in him that it wasn't the case.

"It's just my part to play, I guess," she said. "All three of us can't be sad together, because then we'll never be able to do anything. Besides," she added, forcing a grin onto her face, "at least this came as a surprise."

"What do you mean?" Scorpius asked. "Is that supposed to make it better?"

"Much better," Ruby said, picking up a stone and skipping it across the lake. It only made two skips before sinking, and she pressed her back against the willow tree Scorpius sat under. "I've got a cousin in New York City, and she says things are a lot worse there. People go to school and kept expecting it get attacked." She sat down beside Scorpius, careful to keep her white dress from touching the mud all around them. "She does say that having an ice cream shop just a block from the school makes it easier to deal with, but I'm not sure I believe her. She's probably just playing a part to make sure we don't worry about her too much."

Scorpius nodded and nudged a stone into the lake, sending a few ripples across the surface and startling a little fish. "Have you been reading _The Daily Prophet_? Apparently things in America are pretty bad for wizards, too." He hadn't read much – it had been hard for him to focus on much of anything over the summer – but from the articles he'd read and what he'd heard his parents talking about, it looked like there was a pureblood supremacy movement gaining power.

"We don't get that at my place," Ruby said. "Muggles, you know? But on TV there's always a little segment of the news that talks about what's wrong with America this week." She laughed, but like the grin, it was forced and cheerless. "My dad says it's too bad, because they were supposed to be so much better than this."

Scorpius glanced over his shoulder at the field. There were a few people out, but no one was as eager and cheerful as he was used to seeing them when the weather was so nice out. Even the first years weren't running around and laughing. The somber atmosphere of the school must have affected them, too, and while he supposed he couldn't blame them, he felt a little sad that they had to be touched by something they hadn't even been around for.

Ruby looked over her shoulder as well. "Is Albus going to get here sometime?" she asked.

"He's probably with Hugo and Lily," Scorpius said. He hadn't had a chance to meet Albus's sister and cousin yet, and given the way James had apparently been hovering over them, he didn't think he ever would. "He said he'd be here, though."

"He'd better," Ruby said. "I want to show him my tattoo."

Scorpius stared at her in amazement, and Ruby grinned. "I didn't know you had a tattoo," he said. "Did you get it over the summer?"

She nodded, grinning even more. "You look so shocked. It's not like I'm a delinquent or anything. My parents were proud enough of my grades that they let me get a small tattoo as long as I promised to keep it covered up." She shrugged her shoulders, and Scorpius realized that must have been why she had a white scarf wrapped around her upper arms. He'd thought it was to go with her dress.

"May I see it?" he asked.

"I was going to wait until Albus was here, but I guess I can show you first." She set a hand on her right shoulder, as though the lower the scarf, but then paused. "Promise to pretend you didn't see it? I don't want him to think I'm playing favorites." As she spoke, she inched the scarf down slowly, and there was something flirtatious about her smile, but Scorpius wasn't sure how to respond except to nod. Ruby laughed and slipped the scarf off her shoulder, revealing a little heart with a green ribbon looped around it. When Scorpius leaned closer, he saw that the ribbon was actually the stem of a hidden rose, and there were thorns sticking out from it.

His throat closed up, but he didn't look away. Ruby saw the look in his eyes and smiled sadly as she covered it up again. "You really miss her, don't you?" he asked when he thought he could speak.

"We all do," Ruby said. "I was going to just get a rose, but then I thought that might be weird, so I figured I'd get a heart instead and just have a rose stem attached to it." Scorpius thought he saw a blush rising up her cheeks, but she had turned her attention back to the lake, so he couldn't tell. "It's not weird, is it?"

"No," he said, though he wasn't sure what sort of weirdness she might mean. Like the flirting, he was out of his depth here.

Ruby turned to him again, and for just a moment he thought he saw a dark ocean in her pupils and imagined he could fall into them and land on a ship that would carry him far away from here, that there would be storms and high waves, but she would be there to protect him. He wondered if he ought to kiss her – that was the sort of thing people were supposed to do by lakes – but before he could summon up his courage to lean forward, Ruby blinked, and the ocean was gone. He still thought perhaps he ought to kiss her, but then she had wrapped her arms around him. "I'm glad you're okay," she said.

"I'm glad you're okay, too," Scorpius said.

Ruby sighed and pulled him still closer, into the tightest hug Scorpius had ever felt. "I mean it," she said. "I've been worried about you. You wouldn't write, and I thought something might have happened."

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Scorpius jumped when he heard Albus's voice, and Ruby quickly released him from the hug, saying, "No, not at all. It's about time you got here."

Albus sat down, careful not to sit between them, and Scorpius felt a blush rising up his cheeks, though he wasn't entirely sure why. There was nothing for him to be embarrassed about, even if Ruby had been smiling at him in such a strange way. "I guess we'll meet up in the library tomorrow?" he said, after the silence between the three of them started to become awkward. "I mean, we'll have homework to do, so we might as well, right?" The library would remind him of Rose, but then, almost everything did, and at the very start, the library had been a place for just the three of them. It couldn't be too bad for it to become that again.

"Sure," Albus said. He sounded a little distracted, but Scorpius didn't have long to worry, because just then Albus looked at Ruby and frowned. "Why are you wearing a scarf around your arms? Shouldn't it be on your neck?"

"There are lots of ways to wear a scarf," Ruby said, grinning. "I could put it over my head if you want." She pulled it up, wrapping it around her face and revealing the little tattoo on her shoulder.

Albus's eyes grew wide, and he leaned forward to peer at the heart. "Wow," he said. "How'd you convince your parents to let you get a tattoo? Even James can't get Mum and Dad to let him get one." He made a face and almost smiled. "He wants to get a lion, but they told him he has to pay for it himself."

Ruby laughed – and it sounded genuine – and tossed aside her scarf. "Well, they said we weren't going rock climbing this year, so I talked them into this. They just made me promise it would be small and tasteful." She sighed and stuck her bare feet into the lake. "I think I'd still have preferred rock climbing, but they said I looked too stressed when I got off the train. If they'd managed to get cheap tickets, we would have gone to some Zen retreat in Japan."

"You must have traveled all over the world by now," Scorpius said, looking at Ruby with awe. The closest he'd gotten to leaving the country was a planned trip to the Grand Canyon in Arizona which was cancelled because of trouble in the magical community near there.

"Just about," Ruby said. She scooted closer to Scorpius and slipped her arm through his, then reached back and took Albus's hand, pulling him closer to her. Scorpius again felt out of place, but it was comfortable sitting next to Ruby, and he wasn't about to push her away, so he decided he might as well enjoy it.

"I saw a parade," Albus said. "That was the most exciting part of my summer."

"I got locked out of my house and had to spend the evening sleeping in a tree," Ruby said, looking as though she was grinning in spite of herself. "I fell out twice."

"I got sunburned," Scorpius said, and for some reason that made Ruby burst out laughing, and even Albus grinned. Scorpius smiled a little, and Ruby leaned her head on his shoulder, looking up at him through her long dark lashes.

"Of course you did," Ruby said. "Hey, do wizards get to draw with chalk?"

"I did," Albus said. "When I was little, my dad drew a whole jungle for me and enchanted it so it would move. It got kind of strange-looking after it rained, though." He leaned against Ruby, and after a moment, Scorpius tilted his head so it rested on top of Ruby's. "Up until then, it was the best. He made a maze out of the jungle, and it kept changing even while I was in it. If James hadn't told me to just cheat, I would have been stuck there for hours."

"I didn't," Scorpius said. A bird flew down to the lake and shot up again, clutching a fish in its claws. "Why are we talking about this? Chalk, and what we did over the summer?" He had felt a moment of light and cheer, but as he asked the question, it faded, and he closed his eyes.

"Because we can," Ruby said. She got to her feet, pulling both Scorpius and Albus up with her. "Look, I'm trying, okay? I don't know what I'm trying to do, but I have to do it. We can't spend the whole year just missing Rose. We have to take care of each other, too." She looked from Albus to Scorpius, and Albus nodded.

Something cold and bitter seemed to rest in the back of Scorpius's throat, and he pulled his arm from Ruby's. "I'm not the one who got a tattoo of a rose," he said quietly.

Perhaps, he thought, he'd gone a bit too far with that. Ruby flinched as though he had jabbed her with something sharp, and her cheeks turned dark red. Albus glared and pulled Ruby a bit closer to him, though Ruby waved him off. "What do you mean by that?" Ruby asked, her voice cold and strained, and then it was Scorpius's turn to flinch. "You don't know a thing about why I got this."

"I'm sorry," Scorpius said, but he wasn't sure whether Ruby was listening or even if he spoke loud enough for her to hear. Before he could find out, he turned and ran back to the castle.

Neither of his friends followed him, and when he reached the wall, Scorpius slowed and stopped. He didn't know whether he wanted them with him or whether he wanted to be alone, and when he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that both Albus and Ruby were still beneath the willow. They were facing each other, and as far as he could tell, neither saw that he was still outside, still standing by the lake. His hands shook, and he did nothing to stop them.

"Fine," he whispered, knowing they couldn't hear him. "I'll be all right on my own." He'd been on his own for long enough that he was sure he would be able to handle it again. One Malfoy against the rest of the world; maybe that was how it was meant to be.

Just a moment later, he decided it couldn't be that. He'd gotten used to having friends, and already he felt lonely. Still, he wasn't willing to return to the willow and rejoin them. It wasn't anything he could explain; he just knew that he had left and wanted to keep slipping away. Once the first step was taken, the rest came more easily.

The school wasn't empty, but it felt that way when he went back inside. The halls were cool compared to the bright sunlight outside, and even though he knew it was a natural chill, he couldn't help shivering and moving more quickly until he had gotten used to it. For a while he wandered, drifting from room to room and trying to avoid the areas where the stone was still cold from the attack that spring. He didn't know how they could have kept from being warmed, and he didn't care. He just wanted to keep away from them.

He didn't head to the Great Hall for lunch. Albus would be there, and Scorpius wasn't sure he wanted to face his friend just then. Albus would ignore that he had vanished, or he would feel sorry for him, or he would be angry, and none of those were options Scorpius thought he could stand. Instead, he ducked into the library and managed to avoid the eyes of Madame Pince as he wove through the stacks and found a secluded corner. It wasn't the corner he had shared with his friends, but that only made it a better place to hide, and he grabbed a random book to read.

This corner was even more secluded than the table where he had sat with Albus, Ruby, and Rose, and it smelled like dust. Scorpius muffled a sneeze on his sleeve as he sat down in a soft chair, and when he opened the book, he found it was in a language he didn't know. Ruby might know – Rose might know, but he pushed that thought away before it could start to hurt – but finding her would involve going to the Great Hall and apologizing for what he had said, and it was easier to balance the book on his knees and turn the pages, looking for something he might be able to understand, even if it was just a diagram.

He would have to apologize at some point, he knew, but this part of the library was just so comforting that he couldn't quite bring himself to leave. He wanted to stay curled up in the chair, pretending he could read the book he had found.

When he reached the end of that book, he got up and found another. The second book he pulled from the shelves was in another language he couldn't read, but he was able to recognize it as Arabic. After five more books, he found one in English, and it proved to be a very dense tome on magical theory and the changing of the seasons. For lack of anything better to do, Scorpius settled down with it, though he soon wished he had some parchment to take notes on. There was so much that he didn't understand, and most of the terms were things he knew he would want to look up later if only he could remember them.

Scorpius read until the sunlight coming through the dusty window above his head had faded, and even then, he peered at the pages until he could no longer make out the words and his eyes ached. Weary and hungry, he got to his feet and stuck the book back, remembering a time years ago when he had been afraid Madame Pince would ban him from the library for not putting books away. Now he wasn't sure the book was in its proper place, but he didn't particularly care. He would be able to find it again.

Dinner was over by the time he got to the Great Hall, and Scorpius stumbled to the dormitory, trying to ignore how his stomach was growling. He had eaten plenty at breakfast to make it through the night all right, and when he reached his bed, his heart rose and his throat seemed to shut at the sight of what lay on his bed.

Someone – no doubt Albus – had left a small feast for him, and Scorpius ate as quietly as he could, trying to finish it all. He didn't want Albus to think he hadn't accepted the gift.


	5. Of Mentorship

After the first weekend, things got a little easier. Scorpius's life didn't go right back to normal, but it did become something close, and he was glad enough for that to try to ignore what he had said by the lake.

Ruby, apparently, couldn't ignore what he had said, and after their classes on Monday, she met him and Albus outside the library, glaring. "I think I'd rather study on my own today," she said, and even though she didn't speak any louder than normal, Scorpius felt as though she was shouting at him. "You can join me if you want, Albus."

Albus glanced nervously from Ruby to Scorpius, then back. "I thought the three of us were going to study together again," he said, sounding nervous. "There's not much point in studying by yourself if I'm with you, is there?" He tried to sound innocent – or Scorpius assumed he was trying – but his voice shook, and he couldn't manage to look in anyone's eyes. He knew what was happening just as much as Scorpius did, and it apparently hurt him just as much as it hurt Scorpius.

Ruby looked as though she was about to storm away, and Scorpius spoke up quickly before a proper fight could start. "It's okay," he said. "You two can go ahead and study together. I just remembered I need to ask Professor Longbottom something." He turned and hurried away, only just catching a triumphant look in Ruby's eyes that hurt almost as much as hearing her snap at him had.

He nearly sprinted through the halls, his bag slamming against his legs, and he ignored the way people glared at him as he pelted past. He didn't care what they thought, he told himself. He didn't care what anyone thought. It was him against the rest of the world. One Malfoy against everyone else. That was all that mattered. No one's opinion could be as important as that.

As he reached the front doors, he realized that he wasn't entirely lying to himself. He didn't care about the opinions of the people he'd run past. He only cared about Ruby's.

Scorpius hadn't planned to, but he found himself heading to the greenhouses. He and Albus had just left Herbology, and even though he'd washed his hands well, there were still bits of dirt under his fingernails and his skin smelled faintly of earth. He wasn't sure what Ruby's last class had been – Charms, maybe, but that was only a guess – but he was sure she hadn't had to spend it thinking about how Rose was missing. She hadn't had that constant reminder, both in her classmate and in having every other Gryffindor fourth year there, all of them looking heartbroken. It was probably for the best that he didn't spend time with Ruby right after that. It was just too much.

"Malfoy? What are you doing out here?"

Scorpius jumped at hearing Professor Longbottom's voice and turned quickly, trying to come up with a good answer. He wasn't sure if he ought to lie or not, and just seeing the professor's scarred face and dirt-covered hands made every excuse he'd been considering fly out of his head.

Professor Longbottom didn't seem to notice how flustered he was, and he smiled as he approached Scorpius. "I hadn't thought you were interested enough in Herbology to ask for extra lessons. Aren't you better at Charms?"

Scorpius nodded, not sure why he suddenly felt almost shy. He had known Professor Longbottom for three years now, after all, and even if the man was Harry Potter's friend – and given what Scorpius had heard about how his father had treated the professor when they were younger, he would have had every reason to hate him – he had always treated him well in class. He did seem to have a bit of favoritism to Rose, but he didn't treat any other students badly because of that, and the favoritism was barely noticeable. Scorpius only saw it because he was used to watching people carefully.

He fell into step beside Professor Longbottom as they walked to Greenhouse Two. The professor's arms were full of plants that had been pulled up by their roots, and as they drew closer to the greenhouse, he asked, "Could you get the door for me, Malfoy? I would, but I don't have a hand to spare." He laughed, and Scorpius managed a quick smile.

"Sure," he said, and held open the door. It would have been easy to duck away after that, but for no reason he could explain, he ducked into the greenhouse after Professor Longbottom and followed him to the back of the room. He didn't so much walk through the plants as trail after the professor, and he hovered as Professor Longbottom headed to a row of large empty pots.

"There's a bag of potting soil under the sunplums," the professor said, nodding toward a collection of plants with wide leaves and tiny hard fruits. "If you could pour it into the pots?"

"Sure," Scorpius said again, and he lugged the heavy bag out from under the plants. He stumbled a little with its weight, but he was able to get it over to the pots and pull it open. Some of the soil spilled onto his shoes and across the floor, but the professor didn't seem annoyed, and most of the soil made it into the pots. It smelled almost sweet, and as Professor Longbottom began working the plants into the soil, Scorpius asked, "Professor?"

"Yes?"

"What are those?"

Professor Longbottom smiled again. "They're called King's Rags. I found a good crop in the forest this year and thought I'd use it for the second years. If you want to give me a hand with repotting them, I'd be happy to give you a quick remedial."

For lack of anything better to do, Scorpius took some of the plants and began working them into the soil. He was slower than the professor and often had to be corrected, but Professor Longbottom didn't seem at all bothered by having to stop and fix his mistakes, and much sooner than Scorpius had expected, they were done. His arms and fingers ached and his sleeves were dirty since he had forgotten to roll them up, but he felt strangely content, and when Professor Longbottom smiled at him yet again, Scorpius was able to smile back, though his happiness faded quickly.

"Come look at the leaves," Professor Longbottom said once Scorpius had caught his breath, and he took a leaf between his fingers so Scorpius could get a better look. "See the purple veins? Purple's the traditional color of royalty in Europe. I could go into a whole history lesson, but Hermione would be a lot better at that." His smile slipped a little, but he recovered quickly. "You can touch them, if you want. They're not dangerous unless you've got any open wounds."

Scorpius tentatively ran his finger over one of the veins. The leaf didn't feel like a leaf; it felt almost like silk, and he was half afraid his touch would tear it in two. "Is that why they're called King's Rags?" he asked.

"Not quite," Professor Longbottom said. "Look closer." As Scorpius bent in, the professor asked, "See the little gold veins?"

It was hard to make out in the slightly dimmed light of the greenhouse, but when Scorpius peered at the leaves, he thought he could make out bits of gold nearly hidden in the green. "Yeah," he said, though he wasn't sure what Professor Longbottom was leading up to. Given the enthusiasm in the professor's voice, he was sure he wouldn't have to wait long.

He didn't. In fact, he had barely spoken when Professor Longbottom went on, "As the plant matures, the gold veins expand and take up more of the leaf. The green part starts to fall away until the leaves look ragged, but they still feel soft."

Scorpius stepped back and rubbed his neck to work out a little soreness that had somehow gotten into it, not caring that he was getting soil on his skin and in his hair. "What are they used for?"

"Coloring, mostly," Professor Longbottom said. "Most of the time, when you see gold dye somewhere, it comes from King's Rags. They're used to make thread, too, but the thread's much more expensive than the dye, and really, only royalty can afford it." He grinned, and for that moment he didn't seem much older than Scorpius. "I've heard the King of England has thread from King's Rags in his clothes, and the cloth they use to clean the crown is made from pure King's Rags."

Scorpius's eyes grew wide. "Does he know about magic?"

"I'm not sure," Professor Longbottom said. "It could be just a rumor, anyway." He dusted off his hands and, with a flick of his wand, got rid of the empty bag of potting soil. "Thanks for helping me, Malfoy," he said as they left the greenhouse. "I'm not sure how I would have opened the door without dropping some of them, and they can get a little touchy. I might have lost half the crop due to sulking."

"I'm glad I could help," Scorpius said, shrugging. He wanted to slip away, but he didn't particularly mind having attention paid to him, especially when it was attention that wasn't pitying or angry. Stepping out into the cooler air was refreshing as well, and he realized that he felt more relaxed now than he had for the past few days.

"There's another reason I'm glad you came back," Professor Longbottom said, reaching into a pocket of his robes. "You left the greenhouse too quickly for me to get this to you, but Belén asked me to give you this." He held out a note, slightly stained by soil.

"Thanks," Scorpius said, and he glanced up at Professor Longbottom again before unfolding it. The professor didn't seem to mind that he was reading it right then, so Scorpius decided it couldn't hurt to find out what Professor Zahradnik wanted. His fingers trembled slightly, from nervousness about whether it might be about Rose.

It wasn't, and he let out a sigh of relief as he read.

_Scorpius,_

_At your earliest convenience, please come by my office. I would like to continue our conversations from last year._

_Belén Zahradnik_

He folded the note again and tucked it into his bag. "Thanks," he said again, then hesitated, not sure whether he ought to come up with some explanation. Professor Longbottom might not know about the thought that the Sorting Hat was a Horcrux, and it was possible that he shouldn't know.

"I didn't read it," Professor Longbottom assured him. "I'm sure it's important, though. Whenever Dumbledore used to send Harry notes like that, it was almost always about something vital." He smiled a little and sighed. "I'm sorry. I never thought I would be one of those professors who always reminisces about the good old days, even though not all of them were particularly good. I really shouldn't feel nostalgic about a war."

"It's okay," Scorpius said, but he only said it because he wasn't sure what else there was to say.

They were nearly at the front doors, and Professor Longbottom paused before going inside. There weren't many people out on the lawn, and most of them were too far away to pay any attention to the two of them. "Listen, Malfoy, I know you're probably going through a rough time right now. If you ever need to drop by the greenhouses for company, feel free. If you need an excuse, I'll always be able to find work for you. Sometimes I don't know how Professor Sprout managed to handle everything back when I was a student."

"Thanks," Scorpius said. "I'll remember that." He wasn't sure whether he would ever take him up on that offer, but he would certainly remember it. It would be nice to have someplace to go besides the library.

Professor Longbottom nodded. "I'll see you next class, then." After a slightly awkward pause, he went inside, leaving Scorpius standing out on the lawn, looking over the lake.

As soon as he was alone – or as close to alone as he could be with various other students running around – Scorpius pulled the note from his pocket and reread it. Professor Zahradnik had written for him to join her at his earliest convenience, and though it was convenient now, it was nearly time for dinner. Though he didn't have much of an appetite, his stomach growled, and he was sure the Headmistress would want to have some dinner instead of talking to a fourteen-year-old boy about Horcruxes. She probably meant for him to wait a day or two, or maybe even until the weekend.

But if he didn't go now, he wasn't sure where else he would go. There was always the Slytherin dormitory, of course, but he didn't want to hang around there all afternoon. He could find that dusty corner of the library, but that might involve walking past Albus and Ruby. However Albus felt, Ruby likely didn't want to see him. That only left wandering around the castle, and he was already getting rather tired. Hopefully Professor Zahradnik wouldn't mind too much if he waited outside her office for the end of dinner.

He did drop by the dormitory before heading to her office, but only to drop off his books and change into something that didn't have potting soil all over it. There were a few dirt marks on the back of his neck, but he didn't think the Headmistress would notice, and even if she did, she might not care all that much. After all, what did a little dirt matter?

The password to get past the gargoyle was the same as it had been before. "I need to see Professor Zahradnik," he said wearily, and the gargoyle stepped aside, letting him past. He didn't feel the excitement of the previous year as he went up to her office, and when he reached the door, for a moment he just stood outside, turning the folded note over and over in his pocket, waiting. If she was inside, it would be awkward for her to open the door and suddenly see him, but if she wasn't, he didn't want to knock and wait for an answer that wouldn't come. Even if she wasn't, it might prove awkward for her to come up the stairs and find him waiting like a lost puppy, and Scorpius nearly lost his nerve right then and turned to head back.

Instead, he knocked on the door and held his breath.

Only a few seconds later, he heard a response. "Come in, Scorpius," Professor Zahradnik said, and when he pushed on the door, he found it opened easily. The Headmistress sat behind her desk, looking over an issue of _The Daily Prophet_, but when she saw him, she set it aside.

"Is this a bad time?" Scorpius asked, hovering by the door. He fully expected her to tell him to come back some other day, but instead she smiled and gestured to the chair in front of the desk.

"Not at all," she said, and the warmth in her voice relaxed him enough that he crossed the room and sat down, though he still held his shoulders and back tense. "I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be quite so eager. This isn't an easy topic to discuss, and I wouldn't have blamed you for wanting to wait a while before getting back into it, particularly after what happened in spring." She sighed, looking tired for a moment, but then her smile returned. "Would you care for some tea?"

"Yes," Scorpius said, hoping he hadn't spoken too quickly. "Thanks."

Professor Zahradnik lit a fire in a brazier with a flick of her wand, then got to her feet and crossed to the fireplace. "I suppose you haven't eaten yet, either. If you'd like some dinner, I can have the house elves send something up. They're always perfectly happy to when I'm working late and can't find time for the Great Hall."

Even though the Headmistress hadn't sounded pitying, Scorpius's cheeks grew warm. "That's okay," he said. "I'll be all right."

She looked at him for a moment longer, then took a pinch of Floo Powder and cast it into the flames. They turned bright green, and she stuck her head in, calling, "Hogwarts Kitchens!" Scorpius couldn't hear the other half of the conversation, but he did hear Professor Zahradnik ordering dinner for two, and his cheeks grew even warmer as she stepped back from the fireplace. A moment later, two covered platters emerged, and she set one before him. "If you don't want it, that's perfectly all right," she said, taking the cover off her own platter. "My cat will be perfectly happy to eat it in your place."

The smell of whatever was on her plate was enough to tempt Scorpius's stomach, and after a moment's hesitation, he uncovered his own. The food was unfamiliar, but it looked delicious, and he dug in at once. There was pork, and rice, and something that made him think of dumplings, though it was sliced like bread. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he started eating, and it wasn't until he was halfway through the food that Professor Zahradnik set down her fork and knife.

"You may finish if you'd like," she said, smiling. "You look like you haven't had a proper meal in weeks. I'd like to begin, though, so if you can listen as you eat, that would be wonderful." She took another bite of rice, drank a sip of wine from her goblet, and poured him a cup of spiced tea. "Now, I think it's time we had a talk about Horcruxes."


	6. Of Darkness

There had been cold, the sort of cold that was unimaginable to anyone who had not faced it before, and all those who faced it invariably died. It was the sort of cold that stole heat and left only a husk of what had been. It quenched whatever fire could be found, stilled whatever motion, drained whatever life. It was the sort of cold that could extend even beyond death, and it had not come from this world.

There had been cold, and then there should have been nothing.

But the cold hadn't counted on facing Rose Granger-Weasley. What anyone else would term impossible, she would laugh at and attempt anyway, and so she faced the cold without fear, burning with a desire to protect a boy she cared for as deeply as if he were a member of her family. She burned with a fire of red and gold, and perhaps it was that fire that sustained her and kept her from losing all the warmth in her body. Perhaps it was that fire that kept a spark of life inside her when her mother's old friend found her body lying still and cold, and perhaps it was that fire that nurtured her during the long months after, as healers struggled to keep her alive and her parents hovered anxiously by her side.

Whichever of those things it might have been, Rose Granger-Weasley didn't know. She knew only that there had been cold and now there was darkness.

But sometimes in the darkness there were dreams, and she couldn't tell whether the dreams came from her mind or from somewhere else, something deeper than that and far more alien. The dreams came and went in cycles, and even though some of them were disturbing – or even terrifying – she clung to them, for they were all she had.

* * *

_He had caught her eye from the first moment she saw him, but still she held back. The fire inside her burned soft and quiet, yet still it burned, and one day it reached the point where it had burned through all her resistance. Blushing, she approached him and asked whether he might walk her home that day._

_"It's dangerous out there," she said, looking up at him through her long, dark lashes. "A girl could run into all sorts of trouble going alone."_

_He turned to her and smiled, and it was the roguish smile that always managed to catch her off-guard and make her heart scurry up into her throat to pound away as though it could break through the skin of her neck. "I wouldn't want you to get into trouble," he said, and beyond the teasing she thought she heard genuine worry. "Let me get my coat, and I'll walk you right up to your door."_

_Just then, she realized perhaps she had gone too far. Much as she had wanted his attention, now that she had it, she wasn't entirely sure what she ought to do with it, and the suddenness of it almost frightened her. "You needn't walk me right up to my door," she said quickly, and if it hadn't been so impertinent, she would have reached out to take his hand and hold him back from grabbing his coat. "Someone might get an idea about us."_

_"And would that idea cause even more trouble for you?" he asked, and his mocking smile made her both want to slap him and kiss him. She did neither but simply stuck her hands into the pockets of her own coat._

_"It might," she said. "To the stairs of the complex would be enough, or to the street corner."_

_"And if something were to happen to you?" He had his coat now and had swept it around his shoulders in a flutter of fabric, and something about that swift motion made her breath catch in her throat. "Would I simply stand back and watch as you were attacked by some strange man because I wasn't close enough?"_

_"I can look after myself for a walk down the street," she said firmly, though now that he had mentioned it, she realized that she would likely wind up in a great deal of trouble if someone were to attack her and have a knife. A lone man she could fight off, but someone armed…_

_"Will you let me look after you?" he asked, and before she realized it, he stood just in front of her, tall and beautiful, and she rose up onto her toes to kiss him._

_It was a quick kiss and could almost have been called chaste, but then his hands were on her elbows and she was pressing her body against his, opening her mouth and rising onto the very tips of her toes, to the point where she would have fallen if he hadn't held onto her. The quiet little fire in her chest was ablaze now, almost to the point of pain, and it was that fire that the cold would someday devour and snuff out, without even a thought._

* * *

The darkness was rough and bitter, and there were times when Rose thought she could feel it pushing against her skin, but she always had the dreams to push it aside and call up the fire within her chest. She didn't understand where the dreams came from, for she never knew anyone in them, and even though she always found herself seeing through someone's eyes and thinking their thoughts, the sensation was always alien. Whenever the dreams ended, she felt the rough bitterness return, but it was always slightly lessened, which was something of a relief.

It wasn't enough of a relief to keep her from aching inside. She didn't know how long it had taken, but slowly her awareness was returning. She knew her name again and knew that she belonged at Hogwarts with her family and friends, though she didn't know whether it was time to return yet. She was certain it couldn't be, but she had the sense that she had been lying still for a long time.

She was lying down; she knew that, too. She lay in a bed, but it wasn't her bed. It was unfamiliar, and though it was comfortable, it wasn't comfortable in the same way that her own bed was. The pillows were arranged all wrong, the sheets were slightly too stiff, and the blanket was completely the wrong texture. The room where the bed was certainly wasn't her room, either. It smelled too clean, but not the sort of clean that came from an open window and a good summer breeze. It was the sort of clean that had to be created, the kind that prickled her nose and made her want to sneeze.

She couldn't sneeze, though, and that was the worst part. For some reason, her body simply wouldn't let her. It wouldn't let her move at all.

Then there were the whispers. Other people were in the room, but they always spoke in such low voices that she couldn't make out the words. She'd grown to recognize the voices, though: the soft-spoken man, the quick-voiced woman, the young man who often sounded as though his voice was about to break from pain. The worst of it – even worse than not being able to sneeze – was that she knew the voices, though she couldn't think from where.

But it was too hard to think of how she knew the voices. There were always the dreams that rose up to pull her away from them, and she felt as though if she could only go through enough of the dreams, she would understand what they meant, if they meant anything.

So she let herself fall and let the darkness take her.

* * *

_She was crouched in an alley, holding her breath in her lungs and a knife in her hand. There were people after her, far better armed, but she still had to find a way to survive. If she didn't… if something happened to her… vain as it might have been to think of herself as the last hope of her people, it wasn't entirely untrue. At the very least, she was the last hope of one particular person: a red-haired young woman who guarded her secrets all too well and was capable of falling all too deeply in love with the people around her._

_But that young woman wasn't the most important person. She only mattered because they loved each other, and even that was nothing compared to the chance that she would be able to save her entire city._

_The city was a rough and bitter place, but it was her home, and she couldn't simply walk away from it in its time of need. She wasn't the only one who could help it, but she was the only one willing to help, and that thought made a fire burn inside her, pressing against her skin so hot she wanted to scream. The city was her fire, and if it burned her away to nothing, she would be content as long as she had been able to help it._

_She couldn't move too quickly, though. No matter how the fire burned at her, she knew she couldn't let it control her. There was too much for her to do to risk letting herself die because of her own carelessness. If she wanted to serve her city best, she would have to be careful, though it was hard to hold herself back from racing headfirst into the fray._

_It was even harder now that the fray was all around her. What had started as a quiet revolution had turned into an open revolt, and now it had spilled out into the streets. Someone would be downright pissed, but that wasn't what she was worried about. What she was worried about was whether the leaders of the revolution would find themselves killed in all the mess when the plan was for them to become martyrs of the cause, dying wrongful deaths all too young. What she was worried about was whether the revolution would be vilified for something that had spun out of their control._

_What she was worried about was whether she would put herself in too much danger simply because she was impulsive._

_And that impulse to act was what everyone had said would kill her someday. After all, right now, she wanted nothing more than to fling herself into the riot and kill as many soldiers as she could, They were killing more than just her friends; they were killing her city, person by person, and if the General-for-Life had his way, her city would be nothing but a station for his soldiers to stop before marching on to their next destination._

_That thought was too much for her to bear, and with a cry, she darted into the fray, slashing and fighting, the fire in her chest burning bright and hot. She felt as though a star had taken root where her heart was meant to be, and it made her glorious and dangerous._

_But she would not die that day. Her fire would burn on until some being from beyond their stars reached their world, and only then, only after a long and wearying fight where she would wound the creature almost unto its death would she die, her life consumed by cold and dark but her heart content because she had saved her city yet again._

* * *

And then Rose knew. The creature was gone, but not by her hand. It had been killed by the fire-hearted woman with a knife; the most she had done was to weaken it a little, and someone else must have done the final work. It stung at her pride to think that she hadn't been able to kill it, but then, she had only been thirteen, and a voice that sounded almost like the young woman's – the one of the quiet fire – told her that she couldn't expect to be a hero at thirteen. There would be time enough for that later.

Just as Captain Anholts had told her there would be time enough to kill later.

Rose wanted to hold onto the dreams a while longer, but they faded quickly, like smoke or sparks, and she was left with herself again. It was almost lonely to not have the memories of all the men and women inside her mind, but as she lay still, she found that she felt stronger than she had when the dreams had begun. She didn't feel entirely whole, but she did feel strong, and strength would have to be enough for now. She could always be whole later.

Her body felt weak and weary, and her mind felt anxious and sharp, as though it had been chained up for too long and was eager to act. She almost itched to do something, but there was nothing for her to do. She remembered that her body wouldn't respond to her commands, and that there was no way for her to let anyone know that she yearned to move, to run, to tumble into a snowbank and laugh. But there was nothing for her to do except lie still, experience whatever sensations happened around her, and hope she didn't go nuts from boredom.

At least there was some kind of sensation. Someone was holding her right wrist, fingers pressed gently against her pulse. The touch was somehow strong and cautious at the same time, and as her arm was laid gently back on the bed, she felt a set of fingers linger gently on the back of her hand.

Rose opened her eyes.

At first she thought the man standing beside her bed was Scorpius, but that wasn't possible. This man was just as pale, but he was much older, about as old as her parents, and he seemed far more careworn. She only caught a glimpse of his face as he turned away and headed for the door, but it was enough to show her that he was weary and sad, though she couldn't think of why.

"Hey," she said, but her voice rasped and caught against her throat so the word barely escaped. The man was almost at the door, and Rose forced herself to sit up a little, though she fell back against her pillows almost at once from how weak her arms were. "Hey!" she called, and though it strained her voice, it caught his attention.

The man turned, and when he saw that she was awake, his face seemed to light up. Scorpius almost certainly had his mother's smile, Rose decided, but she didn't have any time to follow that vague thought before the man was at her side again, checking her pulse once more.

"How do you feel?" he asked, and she realized he was the soft-voiced man she had heard speaking before.

"Okay, I guess," she said. "Really tired, and I can't sit up."

The man nodded and set a hand on her foot. "Can you feel this?" he asked, pressing down a little.

"Yeah," she said, and he let out a sigh of relief. "You're Scorpius's dad, aren't you?" When the man nodded, she asked, "Is he okay? That thing didn't get him, did it?"

"He's fine," Draco Malfoy said. "He's been worried about you, though. He'll be glad to hear that you're all right." He smiled again and set the back of his hand against her forehead. "Your temperature's just about normal. Your parents will be glad to hear that you've recovered. I'll send them an owl at once." He stepped back, then hesitated. "You'll be all right if I leave you alone for a little while?"

"Could you tell me where I am first?" Rose asked. She didn't see why she wouldn't be all right, but there was some anxiety in Draco Malfoy's eyes whenever he looked at her, and it worried her. "Why was Scorpius so worried about me?"

"You're in St. Mungo's and have been all summer," Draco Malfoy said. "For a while we weren't sure whether you would make it, and there's still the chance that something might go wrong."

All summer. Rose looked out the window by her bed and saw that it was a brilliantly sunny day. It didn't look as though it could be anything but summer, but the way he had said it… "Classes have started again, haven't they?" she asked, her heart sinking.

"They would have started today," Draco Malfoy said. "You'll have to miss quite a bit, but…" He glanced around, though Rose wasn't sure what for, since they were the only two in the room and she was pretty sure hospitals didn't get bugged, either magically or with anything a Muggle could come up with. "I can't make any promises," he went on in a low voice, "but if you recover well, you might make it back to Hogwarts after Christmas break. You'll have a lot of catching up to do, though."

"I can do it," Rose said, and this time Draco Malfoy's smile was even brighter than before.

"Try to get some rest," he said. "You shouldn't wear yourself out too quickly. The worst thing that could happen right now would be a relapse." He set a hand on her shoulder. "If there's anything you need, just let me know. I want to help in any way I can."

There was plenty that she wanted – to go to Hogwarts right now, to see Scorpius and know he was okay, to have her cousins and brother with her, a large slice of cake with strawberries – but instead she just asked, "Could you rearrange my pillows a little? They feel kind of weird, and I know it sounds dumb, but I'll sleep better if they're the way I like them."

Draco Malfoy's smile was indulgent as he adjusted the pillows under her.


	7. Of Horcruxes

"I'm not sure how much you already know about Horcruxes," Professor Zahradnik said, "but I doubt you're old enough to be familiar with anything but the most basic. You certainly couldn't have gotten into the Restricted Section at the library, though I have no doubt that you've tried." She fixed him with a sharp look, and even though he hadn't, Scorpius found himself blushing. "In any case, I'm going to start at the beginning, and I expect you not to complain.

"Horcruxes are the most powerful dark magic I know, possibly even worse than the Unforgiveable Curses. To my knowledge, very few wizards have dared to make one, and the only who made more than one was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. To create one involves severing your soul, and doing that is the most desperate thing any wizard can do. It's worse than killing a unicorn for its blood, and there are some who say creating a Horcrux is a fate worse than being kissed by a Dementor. A Dementor at least leaves your soul intact, and you cannot choose to be kissed. But a Horcrux tears the soul in two, and creating one is always a choice."

Scorpius felt as though he were receiving a lecture that he hadn't known he needed, but at least Professor Zahradnik wasn't looking directly at him. He felt a sudden stab of pity for anyone who had to actually be lectured by her and had to face her sharp eyes knowing they had done something wrong.

Luckily, the lecture didn't last long, and Professor Zahradnik's voice became a little softer as she said, "Given that, I think you can understand why it would be disturbing for Godric Gryffindor to have created a Horcrux, even if it was only one. There aren't many who would be willing to believe one of the Founders was capable of such evil."

"But what about Salazar Slytherin?" Scorpius asked before he could stop himself. "He made the Chamber of Secrets, and anyone would believe he was evil." His cheeks grew hot, and he wondered whether he was trying to defend Slytherin or condemn him, or even if he was doing a good job of either. He likely wasn't, and though he knew it wouldn't get rid of his blush, he took a quick gulp of the spiced tea.

"You'd be surprised at how many people would argue over that," Professor Zahradnik said with a smile. "He may have done evil things, but there's a small movement of people who believe he wasn't really evil. Of course, a good many of them are American, so it's hard to tell whether they can be trusted or not." She took a sip from her own cup, seeming to smile at a private joke. "But you're right. Of all the Founders, Slytherin would be the one most likely to make a Horcrux. Even I'm somewhat biased against him, though I try not to be."

Scorpius was tempted to insist that the opposite was true, but he had already interrupted her once that day, and even if having a full stomach made him feel better than before, he wasn't sure he was ready to continue arguing.

"Slytherin and Gryffindor were actually very similar," Professor Zahradnik said. "Both were driven, and both were very stubborn, to the point of each losing his best friend." Her gaze went distant, and she went on, "I suppose Slytherin was similar to all the other Founders. As clever as Ravenclaw, as welcoming as Hufflepuff – though to a much more select group of people. I'm tempted to say he could have served as the dark side to all the others."

"But that's just the problem," Scorpius said. "It's like Slytherin's always a warning to everyone, that if they're not good they'll end up like him. It's too much to tell children." He could have gone on, but then he saw the little smirk on Professor Zahradnik's face and fell silent, hoping he hadn't embarrassed himself by speaking up yet again.

"It's good to see you so passionate about this," Professor Zahradnik said after a moment. "Some of the professors were rather worried about you. Neville in particular thought you might close yourself off and become proud, like your father was."

Neville would have to be Professor Longbottom, and the thought that one of the friendliest professors had something against his father made Scorpius feel a little sick. Another sip of tea helped, but not as much as he had hoped. "Is that why you asked me to come here so soon?" he asked. "Did you think I was going to get too proud if I was left on my own?" He was young, yes, but he didn't think he needed to be looked after by one of the professors. He could look after himself well enough.

"Not at all," Professor Zahradnik said, raising her eyebrows. "I was worried as well, and I thought it would be good for you to have something to do, but if I thought you were in danger of becoming proud, I would have asked someone else to look in on you." She smirked again but hid it behind the rim of her cup. "Having private little meetings with the headmistress about something no one else in your year knows is hardly the key to a well-balanced life."

Scorpius didn't know why her words stung him as much as they did, and he asked, "Do you really think I'm right, though? About the Sorting Hat?"

"It's difficult to say," Professor Zahradnik said. "I've done a lot of work over the summer, and no matter where I looked, I couldn't get a straight answer out of anyone. I don't think they were lying to me; I think they simply didn't know." She refilled her cup and took a long breath. "I do think you're onto something, though. Placing the Weasley boy in Hufflepuff surprised everyone. The Potter girl's a Ravenclaw through and through – Neville and Rubeus have visited the family often enough to be familiar with the children – but they both said that Hugo should have been in Ravenclaw with her. He's hard-working, yes, but he's clever, and apparently he takes after his mother."

"It was surprising when Albus was made a Slytherin, too, wasn't it?" Scorpius asked, his embarrassment and nervousness from before fading. His friend wasn't much of a Slytherin, after all; he didn't seem to have any ambition and might have fit better into Hufflepuff.

"You were more of a surprise," Professor Zahradnik said with a smile. "You come from a family of Slytherins, but you would have fit better into Ravenclaw, and a few people think Miss Granger-Weasley should have been a Ravenclaw as well. With Albus Potter, it's harder to tell. Sometimes someone's true nature doesn't come through for years, and it might be a while before anyone can tell what sort of potential that boy has. I don't doubt he'll do great things, though."

The last Slytherin who had done anything great had been Voldemort, and Scorpius refused to believe Albus would be anything like him. "What about Ruby?" he asked, blushing a little again. "Was she a surprise?"

"Not really," Professor Zahradnik said. "Anyone could see that she's a Ravenclaw." She looked as though she would have gone on, but then one of the portraits spoke up, interrupting her.

"You've got a bunch of owls coming in right now," a dark-haired woman said. "They look pretty urgent. At least one's got St. Mungo's seal on the letter." The woman grinned, looking almost smug. "Now do you see why they put my portrait on the outer wall, Phineas? I'm actually useful to everyone here, and I do more than just complain."

An old man sighed. "And yet you never seem to shut up."

"Not another word from either of you," Professor Zahradnik snapped. Her cheer from before was gone at once, and she got to her feet, setting aside her cup. "If those letters are important, I don't want to have to deal with you two bitching at each other while I'm trying to think."

"I wasn't _bitching_," the dark-haired woman said. "I was simply telling Phineas that his soul is nearly as dark and twisted as his face. But then, what should I expect from someone tied to the Black family, and a Slytherin, no less?" The woman sneered, and Scorpius flinched slightly, feeling his stomach tense.

"Enough," Professor Zahradnik said, in a voice that would allow no argument. "I have work to do, and if either one of you interrupts it, I will take down your portraits – all of them – and stick them in a dark closet for a month. Is that clear?"

Both the old man and the dark-haired woman nodded, and in a meeker voice than before, the woman said, "Only one of the owls is coming to your office. The others are headed for the Owlery."

Scorpius felt a sudden burst of something that was either delight or horror. Perhaps one of them was a letter for him. Perhaps his father had written to him to let him know that Rose was doing all right and would be back soon. The thought that his father had written to let him know Rose had gotten worse – or had died, which was an idea that almost made Scorpius panic – was easy to dismiss. "Professor?" he asked, wishing his voice wouldn't squeak quite so much. "May I go?"

Professor Zahradnik waved her hand lazily, and Scorpius leapt to his feet. He bolted out of the office and took the stairs two at a time, sprinting past the gargoyle and pelting through the halls, his heart pounding as though it wanted to break right through his ribcage.

Rose was going to be all right. She had to be all right. There wasn't any other news that could come from St. Mungo's.

"Malfoy!"

Scorpius stumbled on the stairs up to the Owlery, started by James Potter's voice. His mouth dropped in a very undignified gape as he looked up and saw James striding toward him. The older boy looked furious, and there was a crumpled letter in his hand. His eyes were red, as though he had been crying, but that was all Scorpius had time to notice before James had grabbed the front of his robes and slammed Scorpius's back against the wall hard enough to drive all the breath from his lungs.

"You," he snarled as Scorpius gasped for air. "You were with her when it happened. She wanted to protect her, and you didn't have the balls to try to do the same. You left her to die."

The world started to fade around the edges, and Scorpius wasn't sure whether that was because he couldn't quite breathe or from what James had said. Maybe the two were connected. "No," he whimpered, and as his breath returned and his vision cleared, he saw new tears in James's eyes.

Then James drove his fist into Scorpius's stomach and Scorpius doubled over, heaving and choking on the air that had suddenly been forced from his body. He dropped to one knee and would have fallen down the stairs if James hadn't caught him with his leg and pinned him against the wall again. "You're lucky she's alive," James said, and then he left, storming down the stairs and away.

It was several minutes before Scorpius could move without his stomach hurting, and several more before he made it up to the Owlery. He had thought he was used to the smell, but now it made him slightly nauseous, and he did his best to hold his breath as he picked his way across the room. Sitting by the window was an unfamiliar owl with a letter attached to its leg, and when it caught sight of him, it flew over and allowed him to untie the envelope. "Thanks," Scorpius muttered as the owl flew away, and he returned to the stairs to read his letter.

_Scorpius,_

_I'm afraid I don't have much time to write to you, since I have a lot of letters to send out today, but I thought you ought to know that Rose woke up today. She's still rather weak, but she might be able to come back to school after Christmas. She asked about you, and I told her you had been worried. If you have the time, I think you should send her a letter. She'd probably be happier to hear any news from you than from me._

_Something just came up in another ward (don't worry; it isn't Rose). I'll write you a longer letter over the weekend._

_Love,_

_Dad_

Before the end of the first paragraph, there were tears in Scorpius's eyes, and by the end of the letter he was somewhere between crying and laughing. When he managed to get some kind of control over himself, the sun had set long ago and he was starting to feel rather tired. There were classes the next day, so he got reluctantly to his feet and headed to the Slytherin common room.

All the way there, he couldn't stop thinking about Rose, about her bright red hair and wild grin, about how she both terrified and amazed him. If she had been the one to smile at him the way Ruby had, or if she had shown him a tattoo on her shoulder as though it were some great secret… he probably still would have been out of his depth, he supposed, and just the thought of that made his cheeks grow hot again.

Scorpius barely noticed when he entered the common room, and he wasn't shaken from his thoughts until someone ran up to him and nearly tackled him. He stumbled, for a second thinking James was there and attacking him again, but then he realized that the dark-haired boy was closer to his own size and was hugging him rather than strangling him, though it was a tight enough hug that Scorpius thought it would have been all too easy to confuse the two. "Albus," he gasped, wrapping his arms around his friend and trying not to let his knees give out.

"She's okay!" Albus gasped. "Rose is going to be okay! James just told me that her Mum sent a letter to our dad. She's going to be okay!"

"I know," Scorpius said, and this time he didn't mind at all that he could barely breathe.

Albus released his friend, and though he looked confused, he was still grinning widely. "How do you know?" he asked. "There hasn't been enough time for it to get all over the school. I only just found out a few minutes ago."

"My dad told me," Scorpius said. He still held the letter tightly in his hand, and he wasn't sure whether he was willing to let Albus see it. There wasn't really anything personal in the letter, but it still felt like something he wanted to keep to himself, at least for now. "He was the healer who'd been working with her."

"The letter from my parents said that, too," Albus said, his eyes lighting up, though Scorpius wasn't sure what that particular bit of news made his friend so happy. "James must have been furious about that. He still thinks my dad ought to have a feud with yours just because they hated each other in school. Dad keeps waiting for him to grow out of it, but I guess that won't happen for a while." His eyes lit up even more, which Scorpius hadn't thought possible. "Maybe this will change his mind. His dad's rival saving his favorite cousin has to do something, right?"

"I don't think his mind's been changed yet," Scorpius said, and though the pain from before had faded, he winced from the memory.

Albus frowned. "Why do you say that?"

"He punched me in the stomach," Scorpius admitted. He tried to make it sound as though it had been nothing, but the bit of chatter in the common room died away as soon as he spoke, and Albus's smile vanished.

"He _what_?" Albus snarled, and Scorpius nearly flinched at the sudden rage he saw on his friend's face.

"It's okay," Scorpius said quickly, grabbing his friend's arm before Albus could race off to do something stupid like confronting James. "I'm okay, really. It doesn't matter. It doesn't even hurt anymore."

Albus looked as though he was about to say that it mattered a lot, but then he shrugged and smiled again, though his smile was tense now. "I guess you're right. The important thing is that Rose is coming back." He headed to one of the couches, and Scorpius joined him, still a bit nervous at the sudden truce between them. "She can deal with James. He'll probably listen to her more than he'd listen to me, anyway."

Scorpius nodded, though he hadn't been fully listening. His mind was on the argument he'd had with Ruby, and he was about to ask whether things might be all right between the two of them when the door to the common room opened and some older students came in, their arms loaded with food. A party started almost at once, and it seemed as though everyone wanted to congratulate Albus on how his cousin was doing. Scorpius managed to slip away from the crowd, but he bumped into Heather Morris, whose arms were full of little pies.

"Do you want something?" she asked, holding out one of them. "You weren't at dinner today."

"I'm fine," Scorpius said quickly, still full from the dinner Professor Zahradnik had given him. "I think I'll just go to bed." Before Heather could stop him, he slipped away and headed up the stairs to his dormitory. Closing the door blocked out most of the noise from the party, but it was still a long time before he could go to sleep.


	8. Of Days

Rose was weaker and wearier than she had realized, but she still found the strength to sit up every day rather than lying down. Draco Malfoy said he was impressed by her resilience, and though Rose sometimes thought he was patronizing her, she found that she didn't really mind. He at least made an effort to seem like he wasn't patronizing her, and that was more than she could say for some of the other people who dropped by her room.

There was another healer who visited her now, Zoe Ainsley, who had short red hair, a hooked nose, and a sharp Scottish accent. She always adopted a chipper tone when she talked to Rose and insisted that she not overwork herself, and Rose decided within five minutes that she absolutely hated her.

"She treats me like a child," she told Draco Malfoy one day, as he noted her pulse. Rose was sure it was higher than it was supposed to be, and she could feel her heartbeat all through her body, but the exercise he'd been putting her through had been exhausting, and she was sure it would have made her tired even if she hadn't been weakened from months of lying in a hospital bed.

Draco Malfoy glanced at her, and though he didn't say anything, Rose could tell he was thinking that she _was _just a child. With an irritated sigh, she slumped back onto her pile of pillows.

"She probably wouldn't have let me have enough pillows that I could always sit up, anyway," she went on. "And I bet she wouldn't have let me push myself just now." It bothered her that pushing herself meant getting in and out of a bed, but at least it was something. "She'd probably still have me working on sitting up and core strength."

"She'd be right to do so," Draco Malfoy said, getting to his feet. "You really ought to work on your core strength, and I think that's what we'll do tomorrow." He smiled, and Rose found that she was starting to like that careful, tentative smile. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't get bored with whatever exercise I come up with for you, and if you do well enough, next month I might be able to bring in a broom and see what you can do with that." He paused, frowning. "You like Quidditch, don't you? I remember your father and his family enjoyed it, but your mother wasn't as interested."

"It's all right," Rose said with a shrug. "James is the one who's actually on the team, but I play against him over the summer sometimes." She'd even won a few times, and even though James always insisted that it wasn't the case, she sometimes thought he would let her win.

"Well, if nothing else, seeing how well you can control a broom will tell me something about your progress." He made a note on his pad of paper. "You should get some rest. We've got a lot of work to do tomorrow, and I hear your parents are going to drop by sometime this week. Between you and me, I think they've had enough of sitting here and watching you sleep."

The joke was as careful and tentative as his smile, but Rose laughed anyway, and he smiled again before leaving.

Her parents were easier to deal with than Zoe Ainsley – Rose couldn't bring herself to think of the other healer as "just Zoe", no matter how many times she was asked to, and that was just another reason for her to prefer Draco Malfoy – but only just. They had both rushed to St. Mungo's after finding out that she was awake, only to find out that she had fallen asleep just before they arrived. Since then, they had dropped by as often as they could, and while Rose was always glad to see them, she always felt like squirming when she saw the way they looked at her.

Though she tried to hide her discomfort, they couldn't help noticing it, and her mother paused midsentence to ask, "Is something wrong, Rose? Are you in any pain?"

"No," Rose said quickly, though she did have a dull ache just above her stomach. Draco Malfoy had said it was probably nothing but that she ought to let him know if it got any worse, and so she hadn't thought much about it. "It's just that you keep looking at me like I'm going to break. I'm _fine_." Aside from the obvious, of course, but she didn't want to point that out just then.

Her parents shared a look, and she couldn't quite read it, but then, it was one of those looks that married people could give to each other and understand completely. "We're just worried, Rose," her father said after a moment. "After everything that happened…" His voice trailed off, and Rose immediately felt guilty. They probably hadn't meant to, but they'd played the _we had to live through all those months worrying about you_ card, and Rose was sure that would win any argument she ever had with them in the future. "You'll understand when you have kids of your own someday."

If she had kids of her own, but she didn't point that out, either. Her mother had assured her that, no matter what Grandma Molly might say about having great-grandchildren someday, she wouldn't ever feel pressured by them to have kids, and more often, they talked about when she worked for the Ministry someday or when she had won two World Cups for England someday. "So, how's Hugo liking Hufflepuff?" she asked, trying to get onto an easier subject.

"He's doing well," her father said, clearly just as glad for the subject change. "He's made a lot of friends already, and apparently he already knows where the kitchen is. I think it's good for him to be there." He shared another glance with his wife. "Unexpected, though."

"Very," Rose's mother said.

Rose leaned back against her pillows, tired from sitting up without any support. Her parents hadn't even noticed that she'd lasted four whole minutes that time, and for a spiteful moment she thought that Draco Malfoy would have noticed and been proud of her. "I didn't know houses were supposed to be about what was good for someone," she said, getting out her spite through her voice and through looking down at the edge of her sheet. "I thought it was supposed to be about what their true nature was, or something like that."

"I think it's more complicated than a lot of people expect," her mother said. "If it was about true natures, I would have been in Ravenclaw, and so would Hugo."

"And Neville would have been in Hufflepuff," her father said.

Rose perked up when she heard that. "Neville Longbottom?" she asked, looking between them as though one would say that they meant some other Neville they had known when they were at Hogwarts, though it couldn't have been a common name. "He's the bravest professor there."

"Because he was in Gryffindor," her father said. "I don't think he would have been as brave if he'd been sorted into Hufflepuff. It was probably pretty good for him to wind up in Gryffindor, even if he didn't always think so."

Rose picked at the edge of her sheet, looking for a loose thread or a small tear that she could toy with, anything to get her mind off the boredom that seemed to be hovering in every corner of the room. Draco Malfoy and Zoe Ainsley could keep her body occupied, and Draco Malfoy was pretty good at conversation, but there was nothing else for her to do but talk to him, and he couldn't be around constantly just to keep her entertained. She'd never spent so long without having something to do, and if she'd thought she could get away with it, she would have told someone that boredom was killing her better than the cold thing could dream of doing. That sort of joke would only bother people, though, and she didn't like seeing worry clouding behind their eyes.

She wasn't willing to hold her tongue about her boredom forever, though. "What kind of things is Albus studying?" she asked, looking up at her parents as though that was the most innocent question in the world. "Do you still have the list of books that he needed for this year?"

Her parents shared yet another look, and Rose nearly rolled her eyes. "Just like your mother," her father said. "She was stuck in the Hospital Wing her second year because of a mishap with Polyjuice Potion, and she insisted Harry and I bring her all her homework, even though she could have gotten out of it easily. I would have."

"And you would have failed every class because of it," Rose's mother said. Turning to Rose, she said, "Do you think you'd be up for schoolwork?"

"Yes," Rose said, without any hesitation. "I have to do something or I'll go mental. I get bored too easily."

"We've noticed," her mother said, with the sort of smile that Rose knew wasn't really a smile at all and she suspected was something of a mother thing. "If you don't mind having me as a professor, I think I can work up a lesson plan. Neville will probably be happy to help. I just need to find out whether the healers will let us give you as much work as you'll probably beg us for."

"I can convince them," Rose said. At least, she could convince Draco Malfoy. Zoe Ainsley simply didn't have to know, and she was sure she would be able to keep a secret, especially if she had another healer on her side.

"All right, then," her mother said. "We'll start next week. I don't know if I'll be able to follow the lesson plan that your professors would have."

"That's fine," Rose said eagerly. "You'll probably teach me a lot more than they would have." She sat up again, her excitement giving her strength she hadn't expected. "Will you teach me everything?"

"That might be a bit too much to cover between now and Christmas," her mother said with a smile. "I'll do my best, though." She got to her feet and gently tugged her husband out of his chair. "I suppose we ought to let you get some rest now. I don't want to get in an argument with Draco unless I know I'm in the right."

As soon as she could, Rose convinced Draco Malfoy to let her study while still in the hospital and to look the other way while she balanced heavy books on her knees and wrote essays. She also convinced him to let her write letters, and he agreed with a smile that was careful and conspiratorial that writing letters now and then could hardly tire her out too much. He did have to smuggle her parchment and quills, and he always smuggled the letters out, though sometimes Rose thought he was pretending it was more dangerous than it really was just to keep her cheerful.

And it worked. Even though getting exciting could be almost as tiring as some of the exercises the healers had her do to get used to her body again, she found it kept her mind off the fact that she was stuck in the hospital until Christmas. It worked nearly as well as studying did, but nothing worked as well as writing letters, possibly because letters didn't talk back.

_Dear Scorpius,_

_I'm fine. Your dad says he already told you, but I figured you should hear it from me, too. Apparently you've been worried about me, and I guess you've had a pretty good reason. I've been a little worried about you, too, though I haven't had as much time to worry. _

_(You _are _okay, right? Your dad says you are, but I want to hear it from you. You'd better write back soon, because your dad says worrying too much isn't good for me.)_

_(Sorry. I really shouldn't try to make you feel guilty about anything. It's just so boring here, and I miss you and everyone else, and it feels like no one wants to tell me anything because they're afraid I'll faint or something, even though I don't think I've ever fainted. I need someone to treat me like I'm all right. My parents think I'm fragile, and even your dad's really careful around me, but he's nice, so I don't want to be too mean to him, and I can't be mean to my parents, so that leaves you. So I'm sorry.)_

_My mum agreed to teach me this year, so I won't be too far behind when I come back at Christmas. Don't think just because I'm not there this year means you'll get a chance to get ahead of me. I'll have nothing to do but study, and maybe I'll even be able to take my O.W.L.s at the end of this year! Then everyone would know I'm better._

_Your dad came in while I was writing and read that last paragraph. You'll have to tell him it's not nice to read other people's letters (I already did, but he should hear it from everyone). He said they probably won't let me take them, so there goes that plan. I still want to be ahead of everyone, though, so if you could tell me what you've been learning so I don't fall behind because I missed learning about some goblin war while I was learning a complicated potion, that would be great, and I'd owe you… three, at least. I'll take you out for butterbeer every weekend after I get back, and I'll buy you whatever you want from Honeyduke's. _

_You have to write me back as often as you can so I know what's going on back at Hogwarts. I'll write to Albus and Ruby, too, but you seem like you'd write really long letters, and that's what I want. I don't care what you put in them. Just give me something to read._

_I'm going to get better, so don't worry. I've been getting stronger every day, and your dad says I should be back after the Christmas holidays, so you won't have to spend too long without me. (Or if you were glad to not have to be around me as much, you'll only get a little more time to avoid me. I hope it's not that, though, because I've already started missing you. I'm not even sure why. If it had just been a normal summer, I don't think I would miss you this much. I'd be back at Hogwarts by now, though, so maybe that's it.)_

_Anyway, I'll see you in January, and I'll know more than you do by then. Maybe if you ask nicely, I'll teach you everything I know._

_Best,_

_Rose_

It wasn't as long a letter as she'd hoped, but she wrote until her hand ached and her fingers grew tired, and Draco Malfoy promised not to read it as he sealed it into an envelope. "The only eyes that will see this will belong to Scorpius, unless he decides to show it to someone else," he said. "Do you want to address it?"

"Could you?" Rose asked, trying not to feel embarrassed at having to get help with writing an address on an envelope. Draco Malfoy at least did his best to not embarrass her more, and he wrote on the envelope in his careful, neat handwriting as though it were the most natural thing in the world to do. "Thanks," she said, and he smiled at her. "Do you promise not to read any of the other letters I write to him?"

"I'll do my best," he said, and his smile grew almost playful. "If I see a letter lying around, though, I might not be able to help reading a few sentences. You know how it is."

Rose had to admit that she did. She couldn't help reading things and had never bothered trying to stop. "Just don't read too much," she said. "These are supposed to be for just me and Scorpius." And maybe Albus and Ruby, but then, the four of them shared everything.

"I hope the two of you aren't writing anything too secret," Draco Malfoy said, and if it hadn't been for his smile, Rose would have thought he was lecturing her, something she would hardly have believed. Even when she was stubborn and didn't bother hiding her annoyance with Zoe Ainsley, he never lectured her; instead, he coaxed her into a better mood, and by the time he'd finished talking with her, she was usually content to put up with Zoe Ainsley. This tone, though, sounded almost like the sort of lecture her boyfriend's father might give her.

Rose's cheeks grew warm as she said, "Everything's secret when you're a teenager."

"I remember," he murmured, but then his smile faded into a look of concern. "Are you all right? You look a bit flushed." He pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, ignoring Rose's sigh of annoyance.

"I'm fine," she said, but he didn't look convinced, and it took checking her temperature twice to convince him that she wasn't feverish. Even then, he still looked worried, and Rose had to promise to take it easy for the next few days before he was willing to agree that perhaps she was all right after all.

"You still need rest," he said as he left. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, and I don't want you to do anything strenuous until then."

"Okay," Rose sighed, and as the door to her room closed, she looked out the window. She had already started counting the days to Christmas, something she hadn't done since she was a girl.


	9. Of Creating and Growing

"You're coming to dinner tonight, aren't you?" Albus asked. "Don't say no."

Scorpius bit his lip. For the past week, Albus had been pestering him to have dinner with him instead of sitting alone or going to Professor Zahradnik's office. He wanted to see his friend again and have an actual conversation, but for some reason, the thought of having dinner with Albus terrified him. The terror was part of the reason he wanted to have dinner, though; he had to stop feeling nervous about spending time with his friends.

"I'm not asking you to hang out with Ruby," Albus went on. "It'll just be me. Yeah, the rest of the Slytherins will be there, but I won't talk to them. I promise." He forced a laugh, but Scorpius didn't believe that his friend was feeling at all cheerful. He didn't feel like he could manage to be cheerful himself.

He felt as though he ought to be. After all, Rose had sent him a letter, and Albus was eager to talk to him, and the weather was beautiful. There hadn't been a single rainy day since he had arrived, and there hadn't even been overcast afternoons. Even now, as he looked out the window where he and Albus were sitting, he could see that it was practically a September paradise outside. Only a few of the leaves in the forest had started to turn for autumn, leaving little hints of yellow and red in a sea of green. The grass was still lush and vibrant, and sunlight sparkled on the lake. Scorpius even thought he saw the Giant Squid, and for a moment he thought the creature was taunting him.

He pressed his forehead against the warm glass of the giant window, closing his eyes to block out the bright sunlight. "I'll think about it," he said.

Albus groaned.

"I didn't say no," Scorpius said, his voice tense.

"You didn't say yes, either," Albus said, and for a moment he sounded just as tense as Scorpius felt. "That's what I meant."

"I know." Scorpius leaned his shoulder against the window and sighed. Albus had been the one to suggest they sit by the large window, and he wasn't sure how his friend had found it. He had probably heard about it from James or one of his other, more adventurous family members, but to find it, he would have had to wander himself, and that seemed so unlike Albus that Scorpius had to open his eyes and look over his friend to make sure he was still the same Albus he had known for three years. "Why aren't you in the library? Shouldn't you be studying with Ruby?"

Albus shrugged. "I told her I wasn't feeling well and told her I wanted a day off."

That surprised Scorpius even more than Albus wandering, and he sat up, pulling away from the window. "Did you really lie to her?" he asked, not bothering to hide his amazement.

"Yeah," Albus muttered, looking away. "I figured it was the only way I could get away with hanging out with you."

"Oh." Scorpius slumped again and rested the side of his head against the window. It was just warm enough to be almost uncomfortable, but he didn't bother moving. "Is she still mad at me?" He had been forgetting – and sometimes "forgetting" – to apologize, and though he knew he would have to do that sometime, he couldn't quite pick up the courage to do so.

"I think so," Albus said. "We don't really talk about you much, but she hasn't said she wants you back." He winced as though his words had stung him. "Sorry. She probably does miss you, but she's holding a grudge for some reason. I can ask why, if you want."

Scorpius shook his head. "It's okay," he said, though his heart sank. Ruby didn't want him back, and Albus wasn't willing to fight her over it. He was sure he was being selfish or possibly needy, but for a few seconds he wanted his friends to be concerned about him and worried over him, though he wasn't sure what he would do with their worry if they gave it. "Is the studying going well, at least?"

"It's going okay," Albus said. "It's not the same without you, though."

Albus hesitated then, as though he was about to go on but didn't know the words, and Scorpius held his breath, waiting for his friend to say that he wanted him to come back, or that he would tell Ruby off for shunning him, or anything at all that wouldn't just be another bit of small talk. Some sort of wall had come up between them, and Scorpius wasn't sure he could reach through it, but Albus would be able to. He had nothing but faith in his friend, and so he waited to be rescued.

Instead, Albus asked, "What about you?"

"I'm doing all right," Scorpius said. The lie came more easily than the truth would have, but it still felt as heavy as lead on his tongue. "I've been working with Professor Longbottom in the greenhouses. He says I might be one of the best Herbology students he's had, but since he's teaching me extra after classes, I don't know if I believe him." Besides, Rose had to be the best student, and Scorpius could only be the best while she was gone. When she came back, he would be second-best again, and for the first time in his life, he would have welcomed that place.

"I would've thought you'd want to spend more time with Baumhauer," Albus said. "You know, since you're so good at Charms."

Scorpius shrugged. Being mentored by his favorite professor would probably have made more sense than going someplace that constantly reminded him of Rose, but he'd found that with each day, the pain grew a little less. It hadn't been very long, but he thought that by December, he might not even think about Rose when he went into the greenhouses.

"What do you want?"

Scorpius blinked. He hadn't expected Albus to say anything, much less to ask a question like that, and he wasn't sure how to respond. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean what I said. What do you want?"

Scorpius had been looking out the window again, but now he turned his attention to his friend once more and looked over him carefully. He still seemed to be the same Albus as always, and he didn't know why he had expected to see some sudden change. Still, he couldn't deny the uneasy feeling the question had given him. He couldn't think of a reason not to answer, though, so he opened his mouth to speak but found he didn't know what he wanted to say. There was so much that he wanted that everything crowded his mind for attention.

He wanted Rose to come back. He wanted to apologize to Ruby for what he had said, or better yet, to take back those words, even if it meant he never understood why she had reacted so sharply. He wanted Hogwarts to be the way it should have been, without the attack weighing on his mind, or for everyone to have the same weight on their shoulders so he wouldn't have to feel like he was alone with that pain.

But none of those things were what he said. Instead, looking back to the window, he said, "I want to be left alone."

He didn't hear Albus leave. He didn't even see the movement out of the corner of his eye. He simply looked up, and Albus was gone. Scorpius pulled his knees up to his chest and bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't be tempted to call out for his friend to come back and sit with him, that he hadn't meant he wanted Albus to leave. He had only meant that he wanted to be _alone_, and it was entirely possible to be alone with his best friend sitting right next to him.

When he couldn't stand sitting still any longer, he got up and headed down the hall, his book bag hanging over his shoulder. The school felt nearly empty, but he couldn't blame everyone for being outside. Even though it was late September, it still felt like summer, but like the sort of summer that should have been. It wasn't hot and muggy but pleasantly too warm, and Scorpius felt a slight urge to go outside and laze about in the sun. He would only get sunburned, though, and spend the next several days with bright red skin and pale hair, and he would look completely ridiculous. He didn't want to go down to the dungeons, though, or to the library. Albus might be in either of those places, and it would be too awkward to see his friend again after what he had said.

So Scorpius headed outside, but he slipped out through a little side door that he had heard Rose talking about once. It wasn't easy to find, but he had nothing better to do, and putting all his energy into hunting for it let him forget that she should have been the one showing him where it was and leading him out, just as she had led him to that strange tunnel lined with orichalcum.

It was surprisingly easy to avoid being seen, given most of the students and quite a few teachers had gone out to spend the day on the lawn or by the lake. No one called out to Scorpius as he slunk along by the wall of the school, and he thought for a moment that he had turned invisible. It wasn't an entirely unwelcome idea, but he dismissed it at once. People didn't just turn invisible without noticing, after all. Even a Disillusionment Charm left some sensation, but then, that wasn't true invisibility. The only way to get that was through an Invisibility Cloak, and the best one belonged to the Potter family. Harry Potter probably still had it, unless he'd passed it on to James, who almost certainly didn't deserve to have something like that.

When Scorpius's mind stopped seething with thoughts of spells and his growing hatred of James Potter, he realized that, if he hadn't turned invisible, people must have seen them. They simply didn't want to talk to him, and he realized that he would rather be invisible. Feeling his cheeks turn hot, he hurried along.

He didn't know why he wound up at the greenhouses. It was a Saturday, so Professor Longbottom wouldn't have had any reason to be there. Scorpius might as well have tried his office, though that wasn't likely, either. He knew he ought to just move on, but instead he let his book bag drop to the ground and sat beside it, pressing his back against the glass. He was far away enough from the school that no one else was around, and for the first time in a long while, he had a chance to be properly alone.

It didn't last long.

"Scorpius? What are you doing over here?"

"Nothing," Scorpius said, not wanting to look up and meet Professor Longbottom's eyes. The man's voice sounded pitying, and Scorpius didn't want to be pitied. He wanted to be alone, but he couldn't say that to a professor.

"Mind if I join you?"

Scorpius shrugged, and a moment later, Professor Longbottom had sat beside him as though the two of them regularly sat with each other, staring out at the lake. It looked peaceful and placid, without even a sign of the Great Squid which was probably still just below the surface, and it was strange to think that just two years before, a pirate ship had risen up out of it. He hadn't thought about the pirates in a while, and for a moment he wondered if Rose ever thought about them. They had tried to take her away with them, but he still wondered whether she might miss them in some strange way.

"What are you thinking about?" Professor Longbottom asked after a moment, and Scorpius sighed. He would either have to lie to a professor or tell the truth, and he wasn't sure he could do either.

"Nothing," he said, then added, "everything." It wasn't exactly true, but it wasn't exactly a lie either, and it was the best he could do.

Professor Longbottom nodded, as though Scorpius's answer had made perfect sense. "I was just thinking about the Forbidden Forest. Have you ever gone in there?"

Scorpius shook his head quickly. It was against the rules, and while he might have been willing to bend the rules a little on occasion, that was only ever when he was prompted by one of his friends. Besides, heading into the forest was something for Gryffindors.

"I have," Professor Longbottom said. "Several times, actually. When I was a first year, I was sent in for detention with Harry, Hermione, and your father. Did he ever tell you that story?" When Scorpius shook his head again, Professor Longbottom went on, "I don't blame him. He was something of a coward back then. He was eleven, though, and I was pretty much a coward too, though I tried not to be. Anyway, it was Filch's idea. You've met him, haven't you?" Scorpius nodded, and Professor Longbottom grinned. "He always took things a little too far, and I'm glad Bélen's trying to rein him in. Anyway, I had to go into the forest for detention at night, and I was absolutely terrified."

"What happened?" Scorpius asked.

"Oh, Harry was nearly killed by Voldemort, who was possessing our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and drinking unicorn's blood. But that's not the point of the story." Scorpius couldn't see how Professor Longbottom could so easily brush aside something that sounded so interesting, but he didn't have time to say so. "Years later, I learned that the forest isn't nearly as frightening in the daylight." He got to his feet and held out his hand. "Come on. I'm taking you on a field trip. Your remedial Herbology lessons don't end just because it's the weekend."

Scorpius accepted the hand and grabbed his book bag as he followed Professor Longbottom to the forest. "Is that what these are?" he asked. "Do I really need remedial lessons?"

"No, but it does give you a better reason for dropping by than that you'd rather spend time with a professor than with your friends." If Professor Longbottom saw that his words had stung Scorpius, he didn't show it, and soon they were hurrying across the lawn.

People noticed Professor Longbottom, and they called out to him, and he answered with a quick wave and an even quicker greeting. If anyone paid attention to the pale, nearly-running boy next to him, they didn't say anything, but Scorpius still kept his eyes on the ground, not sure whether he wanted someone to notice him or whether he wanted to stay invisible for a while longer.

The shade was welcome after the heat from just before, and Professor Longbottom slowed as they wove through the trees. They didn't go very deep into the forest, but Scorpius still found himself glancing around as though something dreadful might jump out at them at any moment. "Professor?" he asked, nearly out of breath from running and now from scrambling over tree roots and trying to keep pace with the professor. Though he had slowed, he still moved more quickly than Scorpius could easily keep up with.

"Yes?" Professor Longbottom glanced over his shoulder and slowed a little more.

"Where are we going?"

"There's something I want you to see. This way." He gestured for Scorpius to keep up, and again began moving quickly. Scorpius could do nothing but hurry after the professor, and by the time they stopped, he was panting.

Professor Longbottom stood over a patch of small plants with wide leaves and thick stems. He held out a hand for Scorpius to wait, then knelt and peeked at the underside of a leaf. It was bright pink, in a strange contrast to the bright green topside, and the veins were deep purple. "What is that?" Scorpius asked.

"Iobrard. There's a folk tale that says it grows only where something horrible has happened. I'm not sure I believe it, but I didn't notice it until after the Battle of Hogwarts." He rubbed one of the leaves between his fingers and nodded. "It's coming along nicely. Apparently, if you make a tea out of its leaves, it can cure heartache."

"Does it really?" Scorpius asked.

Professor Longbottom laughed a little. "Actually, it's very poisonous unless it's diluted a great deal, and by that point, it's more water than anything else."

"Oh." Scorpius looked down at the plants again. They didn't seem nearly as threatening as most of the plants in the greenhouses. "Are we here to harvest them?" Even if they couldn't cure heartache, there had to be some use for them, and perhaps that was why Professor Longbottom had brought him out here. "What are we going to use them for?"

"We won't use them for anything," Professor Longbottom said. "Sometimes it's best to just let things grow." He rose and laughed again. "I suppose there's some kind of lesson there, but I don't know what it is. Still, I thought you'd be interested. They're a very rare plant, and I suppose we're lucky to have so many growing near Hogwarts. If anyone ever does come up with a use for them, we'll be luckier still." He smiled again, as though to say that he was sure Scorpius would be the one to find out how useful iobrard could be.

Scorpius only shrugged and slipped away, heading out of the forest and back to the school, still thinking of heartache.


	10. Of Letters

_Dear Rose,_

_I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write to you, but I promise I'll send you this letter, even if it takes me a whole week to get it right. You shouldn't have to wait for me to send you anything; I should just do it. But if you're waiting too long, then you can write and yell at me, or whatever the writing equivalent of yelling is. I won't mind._

_What have you been doing?_

_I guess that was probably a stupid question, but I can't think of anything else to ask right now. I don't really know what I'm doing except for studying and trying to survive, and sometimes both of those feel like they're the only things I can do. At least I can do those well, though. I'm still the best student of my year, and Professor Longbottom's been teaching me some extra things about Herbology. Maybe I'll even be better than you when you get back!_

_Probably not. But I'm doing Charms on a sixth year level, so at least I'll be better at those._

_It feels kind of weird to think that I'm doing something as well as a sixth year can, like I ought to know what I'm going to do, or at least what kinds of classes I want to take after I'm done with O.W.L.s. I'm only fourteen, though, and that's much too young to make those kinds of choices. Even fifteen feels too young to decide what I want to do for the rest of my life. How did our parents manage to do it? My dad says he changed his mind a few times, so I suppose it's all right for me to not know, but my mom always knew that she wanted to study Muggle mathematics, so I feel like she might expect me to know, and I'm nervous about telling her that I don't._

_Maybe I won't do anything. Maybe I'll just take some of my family's money and live in a library somewhere. You could come visit me whenever you wanted, and we'd just sit around and read books. I think I'd like that._

_I'd like Albus and Ruby to visit too, but I'm not sure if they would. We haven't been talking much lately, and I know it's all my fault. I said something to Ruby that made her angry with me, and I know I should apologize, but I just can't manage to. I'm too scared to go talk to her. Then I told Albus that I wanted to be left alone, and he hasn't really talked to me after that. Have you been writing to them? Could you maybe find out what I did wrong? I miss having friends._

_I haven't been completely alone, though. I've been spending a lot of time learning extra Herbology, and Professor Zahradnik has been teaching me about Horcruxes. I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to tell you, but you're the only person I can tell right now, so if there's anything I can say, I want to be able to say it._

_I'm glad you're doing better. Hogwarts just isn't the same without you, and I think things will get a lot better when you're back. Maybe your cousin will stop hating me then. James, I mean, not Albus. I don't think Albus hates me. (But if he writes in a letter that he does, could you tell me? I don't like not knowing things, especially when it's about whether my friends actually think of me as a friend.)_

_If you want me to send you my notes from class so you don't fall behind, I can, but you'll wind up getting a lot of packages. The professors are making us work really hard this year, and there's a lot to learn. Do they let you cast spells in St. Mungo's? There's been a lot of practical work in Charms and Transfiguration, and some of the spells have been giving me a little trouble, at least on the first few tries, and apparently they're only going to get harder as the year goes on. I'm almost nervous about what our fifth year will be like._

_Best,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_Dear Scorpius,_

_You'd better send me your notes. Albus and Ruby have offered to send me theirs, but I trust you more, and your handwriting's a lot easier to read. I know we're supposed to be rivals, but really, that kind of stuff is for kids, and it's probably a lot better if we're friends. I think of you as a friend, anyway, and if James has a problem with it, then I'll let him know that I have a problem with him. I already sent him a letter, and if your dad had let me get away with it, I would have sent him a Howler, but apparently making one of those would be too tiring. Everyone thinks everything is too tiring for me, and even if they're right sometimes, they should still let me do _something_. It's so boring here._

_Albus and Ruby don't hate you, by the way. They didn't even mention an argument, and Albus seems kind of worried. Maybe you should talk to him or something, because whatever you think happened isn't what he thinks happened. What did happen, anyway? Albus just said that you don't want to spend time with him anymore, and Ruby didn't mention anything except that you're not studying in the library with them._

_My parents knew what they were going to be when they were our age, I think. Dad wanted to be an Auror, and Mum wanted to work with the Ministry doing something about house elf rights. But then, maybe they weren't normal teens. Ruby says Muggle teens don't have to know what they're doing until they're in university, so you shouldn't have to worry too much. You probably don't have to worry about much of anything. I'm doing fine, and you'll do well in whatever you want to. If you want to have a library, you'll probably be a great librarian. You'll probably be even better than Pince, though almost anyone could be better._

_Actually, you should be a librarian, and I can travel around the world and find rare books for you to keep in your library. Can we do that? Albus can handle finding newer books for you, and Ruby can manage a section of Muggle books. She promised to send me some, and maybe wizards should know a bit about Muggle culture. That's what Mum's always saying, anyway._

_I'll make sure your dad doesn't read any of our other letters, so I expect you to tell me everything about Horcruxes. I don't think any of my family will talk about them with me, so you'd better tell me everything I'll have to know. Is there going to be some big adventure planned in our seventh year? It'd be lots of fun to outdo Uncle Harry and my parents, even if they think the world's safer than it was in their time. There's no Voldemort, but a bunch of stuff's been happening in America (you've been reading _The Daily Prophet_, haven't you?), and maybe it's time some Brits went over and got to be the big heroes._

_I'm still getting stronger, and I can stand up on my own now. The only problem is that I get cold really easily, but your dad says that might not be anything to worry about. They don't know much about what's going on with me, since this is the first time anything like this has happened, and apparently your dad's been busy making sure people don't just pull me out of the hospital to study me. I told him I wouldn't mind as long as they told me everything they found out, but he just said that fourteen-year-olds shouldn't be treated like lab rats. I guess he's right, but I still want to know everything I can about what attacked me. That's the trouble with being young: No one tells you anything. Have you noticed that? Well, I guess you know things, if Zahradnik's telling you about Horcruxes, but she might not be telling you everything._

_Sorry. I didn't mean to make you suspicious of her. She's really good, apparently, though my parents keep talking about how she's no Dumbledore, which of course she's not. No one's going to be another Dumbledore, and no one will be another Zahradnik after her. That's the whole point of being a person, so that you're the only one who can be that person._

_Sorry. I've been getting frustrated lately with a lot of things, and I shouldn't take it out on you. Maybe my next letter will be in a better mood. Write back soon, okay? I'm impatient._

_Best,_

_Rose_

* * *

_Dear Rose,_

_You really didn't have to tell James off. I think I saw when he got that letter, because he started glaring at me across the Great Hall. I'm glad you're looking out for me, but I think he's just going to be angrier now, and he gets scary when he's angry._

_Everything else is going well, though, except that my hand's really tired. I copied out all my notes for you, and if the letter got delivered right, there should be a lot of parchment all tied together for you to read. This will probably be a short letter, since I want to get all of it done at once, and I'm not sure I can fill a whole roll of parchment with my hand aching like this. Albus has gone to Madame Longbottom to get something cold for me to press against it, though, so I'll be okay._

_I'm talking to Albus again, though I guess you noticed that from what I just wrote. You were right, and it's just that he was remembering things differently from how they really were. (Though he says I'm remembering things differently. We didn't argue about it, at least.) We're friends again, and he says we never stopped being friends. It's just that I was being an idiot. I'm probably still being an idiot about Ruby, since I still haven't apologized. I'm not sure I should tell you what happened, since she might want to keep part of it a surprise, but you can ask her when you get back._

_It's finally getting colder, and it got colder really fast. Everyone thinks the dungeons will be freezing in winter, but they're actually pretty nice. They're cool in summer, but something keeps them warm. Albus says that Ruby told him it was something to do with how water holds onto heat, but either he didn't explain it very well or I just didn't understand. Anyway, I kind of like the cold weather, and Professor Longbottom promised to show me some winter plants once the weather gets cold enough. Apparently there's a whole collection of good winter plants in the forest, and since winters get colder now than when he was our age, they're thriving._

_Oh, he's been taking me into the forest. I don't think I mentioned that in my last letter. It's not as scary during the day, but I'm still pretty nervous about going in. Professor Longbottom doesn't seem scared at all, though, and most of the time I'd say I'm not sure if he's being brave or dumb, but… he's Professor Longbottom. He can't be anything but brave, I think._

_Anyway, apparently the Sorting Hat's been acting strangely. Professor Zahradnik thinks I should have been a Ravenclaw and maybe you should have been, too. Instead we're in Slytherin and Gryffindor, though I think you're more a Gryffindor than a Ravenclaw. I still don't know what I'm supposed to be._

_I would like to have a library, though. Maybe that does make me a Ravenclaw._

_Professor Zahradnik's been doing a lot of research on enchanted clothing, and she has me reading through a lot of old books. I've had to practically learn Old English, and it's a lot harder than you'd think. So far I can only pick out a few words here and there, but maybe in a few months I'll be able to tell you something interesting from what I've been reading. I'm not sure how interested you'd be, since so far it's just a bunch of lists, but maybe there's something about the lists when I put them all together. I don't want to apologize to Ruby just to ask her to help me with this, but I think she'd be really helpful._

_If it doesn't weigh down the owl too much, maybe I'll send you something from Hogsmeade the next time I'm out there. Albus says he knows what kinds of sweets you like, and I want to send you something nice._

_Best,_

_Scorpius_

* * *

_Dear Scorpius,_

_I think if you tried to send me any sweets you'd weigh the owl down too much. Have Albus send them instead; I'll still know they're from you._

_I know you're worried, but James isn't really as scary as he seems sometimes. I told him that if he ever hurt you I'd make sure he knew how much I hated him after that, and I really don't think he wants me to hate him. If he does, then I don't know him nearly as well as I think I do. He's written me some letters, and he didn't mention you at all, so maybe he's not as mad as you think. Or maybe he just doesn't have time to hate you. He's got N.E.W.T.s this year, and even though he wants to be a Quidditch player, he still has to get pretty good scores on them or I'll never let him hear the end of it. He already knows I'll beat him on those – even though our parents keep telling us they're not a competition, they definitely are, and it's the best way to get James to do well – but I told him that if he isn't careful, Albus might do better, and he doesn't want his little brother to do better than him at anything._

_Mum and Dad were actually talking about the Sorting Hat a few weeks ago. Apparently people sometimes get sorted strangely. Hugo should have been a Ravenclaw with Lily, and they thought Longbottom might have been almost a Hufflepuff. Still, if you think you've got a good reason for thinking the Sorting Hat's a Horcrux, then I'll help you however I can. I might even be able to translate those old books for you. (Okay, maybe not, but if you send me what you have, then I'll at least be able to help.)_

_I'm still bored, though that probably isn't much of a surprise. There isn't much I can do aside from try to let my body heal, but that's not enough to make my mind do anything. I've been studying as much as I can, and even that wasn't enough, so I decided to learn knitting. It's actually kind of fun, and your dad says it'll help with my dexterity even more than writing will, so I've been knitting a lot of things. I'm not very good yet, but I might be able to make scarves or something for Christmas presents. My mum says the Muggle scientists think it'll be really cold this year, so if you want a scarf, I can make one for you. Right now, I can only make tea cozies, and those are kind of lumpy right now._

_And of course I was right. I'm always right. Haven't you figured that out by now?_

_Sorry that this letter is so scattered. I've had to write it in bits and pieces, and your dad is the only person who thinks I'm up for writing long letters in addition to everything else I've been doing, so I have to hide this a lot. Your dad's a pretty cool guy, and I think we're getting along really well, which might be weird. I mean, my family and his hated each other, but now things are mending pretty well between everyone. Ten years ago, no one would have ever expected to see a Malfoy hanging out with a Potter and a Granger-Weasley, much less with a Muggle-born._

_You should definitely apologize to Ruby. I want the whole group back together before I get back, and if you're not, then I'll have to find a way to force all of you to get along. You're all my friends, and I don't want to have to deal with two separate groups. I don't know how Albus and Ruby managed it back when we were being rivals. I know I wouldn't be able to, and I don't want you to wind up on your own. You're too good for that._

_I'm really jealous that you get to go into the forest before me. (Ruby would probably say that I should use _envious_, but I really am jealous, because I'm supposed to be the one having all sorts of adventures. I'm the Gryffindor in our group, after all.) You'd better include those plants in your notes too, and if you're already doing that, then you'd better do a better job of letting me know which plants are the ones in the forest. I don't want to have to figure that out on my own when I go into the forest, and I refuse to let you get ahead of me in Herbology unless I can get ahead of you in Charms, but I don't think that's going to happen._

_Thank you for the notes, by the way. I guess I should have said that earlier, but I was too busy trying to find a place to keep them that's out of the way. I've got a room to myself, and it's really nice, but it's not very big, and I don't have much room for things._

_Best,_

_Rose_


	11. Of Gray Skies and Song

September had been a beautiful month, and Ruby had dragged Albus out of the school often enough that he wound up sunburned by the end. Ruby didn't sunburn, or if she did, it never lasted very long before it turned into a tan. Albus was more envious than he could have said, and when he did try to put it into words Ruby only laughed and flicked his nose, which hurt most of the time because of the sunburn.

"You could flick something else," he muttered once, while rubbing the sore skin. It felt too warm against his fingers, and he knew he could probably go to Madame Longbottom and get something to treat it, but he didn't particularly want to. It was just a sunburn, after all, and since he'd just gotten a letter from Rose, it felt petty to go to the Hospital Wing just for a sunburn.

"Oh? Is there something else you'd like me to flick?" Ruby asked. Her wicked grin made Albus blush, or at least, he thought he was blushing. They were red and hot from the sun, and the only change he could feel was that they got a little warmer.

"Why do you want to spend so much time outside, anyway?" he asked as they walked across the lawn. Even the sunburn couldn't let him forget that it was a beautiful day, and he squinted up at the blue sky. He knew this sort of weather couldn't last, but it had been lasting for weeks, and it felt as though they wouldn't ever be cold again. If it lasted long enough, he might even be able to forget that winter had ever existed, and he didn't think that would be such a bad thing, even if it meant no more snowball fights.

"Because it's nice out," Ruby said. They had wandered away from the rest of the students who were outside, and it felt strange to be alone with her. Albus had grown up surrounded by cousins, and it felt strange to be alone with anyone. He wasn't even usually alone with Scorpius, since he was comfortable being a Slytherin now. "It's going to start raining or something any day now, and I want to be outside while I can. Don't you?"

"Yeah," Albus said with a shrug, "but I thought you'd want to study."

"We can study outside," Ruby said with a smile. "Remember back when we thought Pince would kill us if we took books out of the library?"

"That's because we thought she wouldn't let us in the library in the first place," Albus said, but he couldn't help returning Ruby's smile at the thought of how foolish they had been when they were younger.

"Still, we can study outside any time we want to." Ruby picked a dandelion and blew its seeds, dispersing them with a single puff, and they drifted away across the green grass. "What do you think? Should we study under the tree tomorrow? If we pick the right books, we can press leaves between the pages and no one will find them until we're long gone."

Maybe someone sometime had already done that, Albus thought, and they just hadn't found the right books. One of his parents' friends, or someone from his grandparents' time, or possibly even before then. They would open a book someday and find a leaf old enough that it fell apart into dust when they touched it. The bit of poetry in that thought vanished when he realized Pince would yell at them for getting leaf dust in the books, but it was still an attractive idea. "Why aren't we studying outside now, then?" he asked.

"Because that would involve going back inside to get books, and I don't want to do that yet," Ruby said with a grin. "Besides, there's another reason I want to stay out here."

Something about her tone told Albus that she wanted him to ask, and so he decided to oblige her. He wasn't sure he could have denied her anything just then, when her blue eyes were like bits of the sky and her brown face was one large smile. "Why's that?" he asked.

"Because I can't do this in the library!" With a laugh, she ran forward and launched into a cartwheel, tumbling across the grass, all long arms and legs with a long torso between, and her black hair flying around like dark pieces of dandelion fluff. She managed to do three cartwheels in a row before falling to the ground, and there she lay laughing, though if Albus hadn't seen the smile on her face, he would have thought it sounded like she was crying.

He laughed, too, because she was laughing, and when he went over to help her up, she pulled him down to lie beside her on the grass. Her skin was warm, and not just from the sun, and for a while Albus was happy to lie beside her, her hand wrapped around his wrist, his face right next to her untattooed shoulder.

At that moment, it felt as though the sunlight would last forever.

* * *

It didn't, of course. Nothing could, especially not sunlight, and Albus wasn't surprised when he went to the Great Hall in October and looked up to the ceiling to see an overcast sky with some drizzle falling. He was disappointed, but not surprised, and he realized that he and Ruby hadn't studied outside once in September. They'd hardly studied at all, and the few times they had, they'd studied in the library.

He was surprised to see that Scorpius's face was tinted pink with what looked like sunburn, and he realized that he'd hardly had a chance to talk to his friend. They'd had brief conversations, but it seemed as though Scorpius was always hurrying off somewhere, and there was still something awkward and uncertain hanging between them. Albus was done with having to deal with that, so as Scorpius tried to head past him, Albus grabbed the sleeve of his robe and pulled him into an empty seat beside him. "Eat breakfast with me," he said. "Don't say no."

Scorpius hesitated, which was almost as bad as saying no, and Albus let go of his friend's sleeve and glanced back at his plate, but he didn't have any appetite for eggs and biscuits with jam anymore.

"If you've got someone you'd rather eat with, that's okay," Albus said quietly.

"I'll eat with you," Scorpius said, and he started loading bacon onto his plate. It wasn't as much as some of the other students around them, but it was more than Albus had seen him eating lately, and he smiled as he tucked into his food again. "Sorry I haven't been around much."

"It's okay," Albus said. "I've been kind of busy, too." He hoped Scorpius couldn't tell that he was lying; he hadn't been busy at all, unless running around outside with Ruby counted as being busy. He wasn't sure it could, since they hadn't been doing anything, but somehow even doing nothing managed to eat up time without his even noticing.

"Studying?" Scorpius asked, and when Albus nodded, he said, "I thought so." He took a large swig of pumpkin juice, and something about the way he ate made Albus think of someone who had been almost starving for days, though he didn't think he'd ever known anyone like that. It was just the way he imagined someone who had been starving would eat, and maybe Scorpius had been starving a little. He was probably the thinnest person at the table, and even with the sunburn, he looked pale.

"I haven't seen you in the library," Albus said carefully, hoping Scorpius wouldn't say something about how he had gone around the whole library several times and never seen Albus. He didn't know why he felt so nervous about mentioning what he and Ruby had been doing, since there hadn't been anything wrong with wandering around outside, but he still felt careful of their time together, almost jealous.

"I've been in the section written in Old English," Scorpius said, making a face. "Professor Zahradnik's given me a bunch of reading to do from there, and I've had to learn how to translate all of it." He ate half a biscuit in one bite, then washed it down with another swig of pumpkin juice. "Do you… um… do you think Ruby might know any Old English? It's just that it might be easier to figure it out with her help, and I'd apologize, if she wants me to." His gaze was on his mostly empty plate, and he fidgeted with the remains of his biscuit, picking at it until crumbs fell onto the plate.

"I could ask," Albus said, and Scorpius grinned at him.

"Thanks." He finished his biscuit, then got to his feet. "I have to run up to the Owlery, but I'll see you in class. Bye!"

"Bye," Albus said, but Scorpius had already run off between the tables. With a sigh, he finished his breakfast, and while he did have an appetite for it, it wasn't as large as it had felt when the meal had started.

He did see Scorpius in class, but there wasn't much time for them to talk. The classes had gotten even more rigorous this year, and both of them spent their time scribbling down notes or practicing spells. The magic came as easily to Scorpius as ever, and Albus did all right, but he found he had more trouble than he was used to. Even Herbology, where they would usually talk while working, kept them too busy to say much more than a few words here and there. They were working with ostreinlet, which turned out to be much more finicky than Professor Longbottom had warned them about, and Albus found himself chasing one of the little shrubs almost out the door before he could stuff it into the larger pot. His classmates thought it was funny, and Professor Longbottom gave him a sympathetic smile, but it took away his last chance to talk to Scorpius before the end of classes.

His last chance to talk to Scorpius that day wasn't taken by the ostreinlet but by Ruby, who found them in the Entrance Hall. Both of them were wet from the rain that was now pouring in earnest, and as soon as he saw her, Scorpius blushed and hurried off, muttering something about how he had to meet with Professor Zahradnik. He didn't meet Ruby's gaze, and Ruby didn't look at Scorpius any longer than she had to before grabbing Albus's arm.

"There's something I have to show you," she said, pulling him to a small side staircase. She had the sort of grin that was hard to deny, and though Albus followed her, he still made a good effort to pay attention to what he'd been meaning to do for days.

"Ruby, can I talk to you for a minute?" he asked.

"Sure," she said brightly. "It'll take at least that long to get to where I'm taking you, so we can talk all the way there." She practically beamed at him, and he felt something inside his chest tighten.

"Do you… um… do you know Old English?" It hadn't been the question he had meant to ask, but it was as good a place to start as any, and maybe it would lead to the conversation he'd actually planned to have. Rose or James might have started talking about Scorpius outright, but he wasn't as brave as they were, and he didn't know how to try broaching any sort of subject.

Ruby laughed and frowned at him. "Not really. I could probably learn, though, if I had to. Why do you ask?"

"It's just…" Now. He had to speak now, or the words would falter on his tongue and he wouldn't be able to say anything about it again, because he would know that he had been a coward. Even if he had managed to talk to Scorpius earlier that day, he was still a coward, or maybe there were only so many brave things he could do in the space of twenty-four hours and he had used them all up with that. "It's just…"

Ruby didn't stop or even slow down, but suddenly her attention was entirely on Albus instead of on the hall ahead of them, and it felt as though they might as well have stopped. "Why are you so nervous?" she asked. "Is something wrong?"

Albus shook his head. "Scorpius was asking," he said, and in that moment it felt like a weight had lifted from his chest and something new had settled there at the same time. It didn't make any sense, but then nothing about Ruby seemed to make any sense anymore.

"Oh," Ruby said, and she looked ahead again. "Did he say why he was asking?"

"He's been reading some stuff in Old English for Professor Zahradnik," Albus said. Ruby's hand around his wrist was warm, but that felt like the only warm thing about her just then.

"Was it about Horcruxes?"

"He didn't say," Albus admitted, and Ruby's back, which had started to straighten with excitement, slumped a little. "Probably, though. I told him I'd ask you, because he sounds like he could really use help with translating."

"Well, you can tell him that I'll help if he wants to ask me in person," Ruby said. She sounded as though she would have gone on, but then they reached a door made out of pale wood, and she pushed it open. Albus couldn't remember ever seeing that door before that day, but since the stone around it was so pale, he supposed he must have just overlooked it. He'd never had any classes in this hall, anyway, or any particular reason to come here.

"Where are we?" he asked, and Ruby smiled at him. He wished she could have been smiling because she'd agreed to talk to Scorpius and be friends with him again, but he would have accepted any sort of smile from her, and this smile seemed to say something about secrets that the two of them would share.

"This is my favorite room in the whole school," she said. "I found it last year, but I didn't know who I wanted to share it with. I think you ought to be the one to see it, though. Come on." She tugged him in and closed the door behind him, but he hardly noticed that the door was closed.

The room was larger than he had expected, with a high, swooping ceiling and columns lined up against all the walls. It nearly took his breath away, and he took a few steps in but hesitated after that, content to just stare. It wasn't anything like any other room he'd seen in Hogwarts before, and even if he wasn't as much an explorer as some of his uncles had been, he still felt like he'd seen a lot of Hogwarts. This room felt almost like it ought to be a piece of art, and as he took a few more steps forward, he noticed that his feet gave off a faint echo. It was barely large enough to be noticed, but he could hear it if he listened closely.

"Wow," he whispered, and the faint sound of his voice echoed off the walls, coming back to him and sounding like the faintest breath of air.

"You see why I like it?" Ruby asked. She took his hand and pulled him to one corner of the room, where a comfortable chair had been set up. Albus sat down, and when he looked up, he thought he saw Ruby blushing a little. "I've been preparing this for someone for a while," she said, smiling nervously. "Are you ready?" Albus nodded, though he wasn't sure what he ought to be ready for, and Ruby began to sing.

He had never heard her sing before and hadn't even known she liked to sing. It was the sort of thing he had never bothered to ask because there had been no reason to, but now, as her voice echoed around the room, he realized that he had always wanted to know whether she could sing but hadn't even known that he wanted to know.

The song was Welsh, but that was all he knew about it, and that only because Lunete sometimes liked to talk in Welsh and so he had gotten used to hearing the language. He couldn't understand a word of it, but he didn't want to make Ruby stop to ask for a translation. He only wanted to sit back and listen to her sing as the echoes made the words sound even more musical and incomprehensible than before. The song made him think of Lunete a little, but Lunete wasn't around, and Ruby was right in front of him, her eyes closed and her voice ringing clear and beautiful through the room.

When she finished, the air still thrilled with the sound of her voice, and it wasn't until that had completely faded away that Albus realized the song was truly over. After a moment's hesitation, he clapped, and Ruby blushed even more and gave a little bow before coming to sit on the arm of the chair beside him.

"Did you like it?" she asked, eyes alight and eager.

"It was incredible," Albus said, still breathless from the experience, and he lost the last bit of his breath when Ruby flung her arms around him in a hug. He hugged her back, and all thoughts of going to the library or asking her whether she could help Scorpius with Old English were tucked in the back of his mind, where they couldn't get in the way of Ruby's arms around him.


	12. Of Home

James had always known he was lucky. He'd heard enough stories about his father's childhood to know that, and even without comparing himself to the past, he would have considered himself so. He had a large family and always had someone to spend time with. He could even pick out certain people for their company depending on what he wanted at that moment. If he wanted to spend time with someone sweet and quiet, he sought out Lily. If he wanted to be around someone who could inspire him to be incredible, he sought out Uncle Charlie. If he wanted someone who would make him feel welcome no matter what, he went to Rose.

Most of the time, he went to Rose.

There was more to his luck than just family, though. He made friends easily, even though he had a bit of a temper, because he was just too much fun to not befriend everyone around him. He could even be charming when he wanted to, and that was how he had convinced Lujayn, who was quite possibly the prettiest Gryffindor he'd ever met, to go on a date with him. He was still dating her, and because he wasn't the sort to get stuck anything he didn't want to be, he decided he had to be in love with her. She loved him too, or at least she did a very good job of coming close to loving him, and even though he was still a bit young for it, he thought that he might like to marry her someday.

He was even lucky when it came to homes. He'd always felt at home living with his family, and he felt at home in the Burrow, and when he went to Hogwarts, he found that he felt perfectly at home in the castle as well. Three homes was more than enough for any boy, and he decided on his first night there that he had to be the luckiest person to ever live. It was as though all the good things that could have happened to his father were happening to him, and he wasn't about to complain.

But now Gryffindor Tower didn't feel like the home it had before, and James found himself almost wishing he could leave, though he didn't know where he could go. Every place he thought of would feel the same, and he knew exactly why that was. No matter where he went, Rose wouldn't be there.

He'd thought that getting back to Hogwarts and having to focus on his classes would help, but he was too used to seeing Rose in the Great Hall or sitting in the common room, and her absence was like having a stranger follow him, but there was no way for him to escape it, no spell he could cast, no way for him to move fast enough to get away. He tried, filling up his hours with homework and Quidditch and Lujayn, but nothing was enough to take his thoughts off his cousin. He'd been young enough when she was born that he couldn't remember a time without her, and his earliest memories were of sitting next to baby Rosie and waiting for her to do something. When he'd gone off to Hogwarts, they'd written almost constantly, and he hadn't felt like he missed her because he knew he would get a chance to visit her soon.

But now everything had changed, and he didn't like it at all.

They still wrote to each other, of course, but the letters weren't the same. He missed the old, scrawled letters he'd gotten in the mail every week, the ones that were full of rambling sentences and insistences that he send her his notes from class, even though they both knew he didn't bother taking notes. The letters he got now felt formal and strained, and he couldn't manage to find the energy he'd once had in responding.

_Dear James,_

_I'm glad you're doing well. I think things are going okay here. I can sit up for over an hour now, and Draco Malfoy says he'll let me try walking down the hall soon. He snuck in a broom, and apparently my core still needs work, so we'll be doing a lot of that._

_Say hi to Lujayn for me, and stop picking on Scorpius._

_Best,_

_Rose_

_Dear Rose,_

_I'm not picking on Malfoy. Get better soon._

_Best,_

_James_

He knew his letters weren't nearly what she had been hoping for, but he couldn't bring himself to write any more. Sometimes he couldn't bring himself to write at all, and that was probably why she hadn't written to him since the start of October. The month was now nearing its end, and he hadn't gotten another letter from her. There should have been enough to keep his thoughts occupied, but he couldn't manage to focus. Even hating Malfoy didn't give him enough to do. The only thing he could think about was that he had to see Rose, even if it was just for a few seconds, even if they didn't see each other again until Christmas.

Luckily, he had something that would help. Luck was always with him.

* * *

September had been beautiful, but October was just miserable. It was gray and raining, and Rose couldn't stand looking out the window. Draco Malfoy had offered to enchant it so it would give her sunlight all the time – except at night, of course – but in a moment of pique she had refused, saying she was fine with the rain. She wasn't at all, but she had other things to occupy her mind.

There were plenty of books for her to read, and more homework to do than she'd ever had before. Her mother was giving her lessons on all sorts of things, some of which the professors at Hogwarts were covering for the other fourth years, but there was enough of a difference between the lesson plans that she felt like she was doing two years' worth of work, even though it was probably only one and a half. She had letters to write and knitting to learn, and on top of all that, she had to get better by Christmas. It felt much closer now, and she had been starting to worry she wouldn't be able to go back to Hogwarts after the break.

Then there was that cold feeling just behind her chest, the thing that had seemed to settle and stay, and she couldn't help but be a little frightened by it. She had mentioned it to Draco Malfoy a few days ago, and he had looked worried.

"It's probably nothing," he said quickly, giving her a gentle, tentative smile.

"It isn't nothing if you're that worried," Rose said, crossing her arms. "Tell me what's wrong." When she realized that ordering adults around, especially Healers – even if they were kinder to her than most – didn't often work, she did her best to soften her expression and look contrite. "I mean, will you please tell me what's wrong?"

Draco Malfoy laughed a little, though he still looked too worried for her liking. "I don't think you should try pouting to make anyone give in," he said. "You aren't very convincing."

Rose shrugged and smiled a little. "You're not very convincing, either. Something's wrong. What is it?"

He sighed. "I'm not sure yet. There's nothing about this in anything I've ever read, but if it'll satisfy you, then I'll do some research and see if I can find out anything. I won't tell you any rumors, but I will tell you every hard piece of evidence that I can find. Will that be enough?"

"It'll have to be," Rose said with another shrug.

Since then, she hadn't heard anything, and she couldn't tell whether she ought to be worried or relieved. It could be that he simply hadn't found anything yet, or possibly he had found out that she was going to die and was just trying to find the best way to tell her. That thought only came to her in the middle of the night, though, when she was already having trouble sleeping, and by the time morning came, she was able to dismiss it. Draco Malfoy wasn't the sort of man who would try to soften things for her, she decided. He would tell her right out. If he said nothing, that only meant that he had found nothing, and she would just have to keep trusting him, which was surprisingly easy.

It wasn't always easy to be patient, though, and even with all she had to do, there were moments when she would get terribly bored and desperate for anything. On the late October day when the door to her room opened unexpectedly, then, she sat up eagerly, looking forward to any visitor. She would even have been happy to see Zoe Ainsley, though only for a little while.

Instead, she saw James Potter, and her heart beat so hard from excitement that it nearly hurt. Heedless of whether or not she actually could, she flung herself out of bed, stumbling over her own feet, and if he hadn't caught her, she would have fallen to the floor.

"What are you doing?" he asked, easing her back onto the bed. He looked concerned – worried, even, which was strange for James – but she couldn't seem to stop laughing over how ridiculous the whole situation was. It wasn't _really_ funny, she supposed, but she was the one who had fallen, and he was sure she looked like a complete idiot, with her hair barely combed and her legs still trembling a bit from the haste. "Rose, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, setting her hands on his shoulders. "Really. I just lost my balance a little."

"More than a little," James muttered. "You need to look after yourself better, since I'm not here to keep an eye on you. I mean, God, Rose, if anything else happened to you, I'd… I'd…" His voice broke in a way it hadn't since he had been her age, and before she knew what was happening, he had flung his arms around her and was holding her so tightly she could barely breathe. His chest shook, and she felt hot drops of water falling onto her head and neck.

"James, are you _crying_?"

"Shut up," he snapped, pulling away from her, but she could tell she had guessed right when she saw him turn to wipe his sleeve across his eyes. "I'm fine."

He sounded so cold and bitter that she shrank back a little and looked away. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "It's just that I don't think I've ever seen you cry before." And it felt strange to think that it was because of her.

"But if I had to cry, it'd probably be because my favorite cousin almost died," he went on, not meeting her gaze. "I mean, Hugo and Lily are each other's favorites, and you're Albus's, and Albus is yours, but you're my favorite, too." His voice was shaking, and he suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out an old bit of parchment. "And that's why I want you to have this."

Rose took it skeptically and turned it around. It was completely blank and looked as though it had existed for decades. "James, if you want me to write more, you can just say so," she said after a moment. "You don't have to give me a joke present."

"It isn't a joke," he said quickly, pulling out his wand. "Well, it is, but not on you. Here." He tapped the parchment with his wand and said triumphantly, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

At once, lines of ink flowed out of his pen, creating shapes and whorls that Rose soon recognized as the inside of Hogwarts. Fascinated, she leaned closer, and when she was within a foot of the parchment, she saw that there were little moving dots with names wandering around. There was Petra Feng, and Lionel Dietrich, and Scorpius Malfoy. When she saw the third name, her breath caught in her throat and she followed the dot with her gaze as it went down a hall, up a flight of stairs, and into an empty classroom. It stayed there, and after a few seconds, she got bored of watching it and moved on to others.

She stared at the paper for minutes, and James didn't get the slightest bit impatient. He didn't even speak, and when she looked up, he was smiling. "What is this?" she asked.

"Remember when Dad would talk about the Marauder's Map?" James asked.

Rose nodded, then understood why he would be asking that question, and her eyes flew wide open with wonder. "Is this…"

James grinned. "The real deal. I nicked it from Dad's desk a few years ago. Either he didn't notice or he doesn't mind, but he hasn't asked for it back. Now I want you to have it." He pushed the parchment the last few inches across the bed until it sat right next to her. "It'll do you more good than it will me. You've still got three years to go at Hogwarts, and it'd be weird for me to keep it."

"Yeah, you're right," Rose said, but she was still hesitant to accept it. It would be holding part of her family's history. Even if she was only related to the Potters by marriage, she still felt connected to that generation, and Uncle George had owned the map for a few years. "Shouldn't it go to Albus, though?"

"You're my favorite, not him," James said. "Lily's great, but you're the person I always wanted for a younger sister."

Rose felt a little guilty, but she didn't want to just turn it away. It was the Marauder's Map, after all, and really, if anyone was going to carry on the tradition of the manufacturers, it would be her rather than Albus. James was right about him being her favorite, though she wouldn't admit it, but she didn't think he would do as much with the map as she could, even if she wouldn't be able to use it properly until January. "Thanks," she said, and picked up the map. It didn't feel like holding a piece of history – it felt like holding an old bit of parchment – but she still held it reverently.

"You know how to clear it though, right, so no one else can see it?" James asked.

"Yeah," Rose said, "but you should do it this time."

James nodded and set the tip of his wand to the paper. For a moment, Rose thought he might want it back, or that he would wait until she was at Hogwarts, but then she felt something heavy settle on her shoulders. It didn't feel like anything bad; it simply felt like something was coming to an end. When James glanced up and met her gaze, she nodded once, hoping she was right in guessing what he wanted her to do.

Together, they said, "Mischief managed."

The ink faded away as though it had never been, and within a few seconds, Rose held only an old piece of parchment. She looked at it one last time before folding it up and sticking it under her pillow, where it would be safe until she could find a better place for it.

"Thanks," she said again, and James shrugged, grinning. Just like that, the moment of finality was over and they were themselves again, just two schoolchildren hanging out in a hospital room. The thought struck Rose, and she leaned forward. "Shouldn't you be in class right now?" she asked. "It's Tuesday."

"I skipped," he said. "You're more important than Transfiguration."

"James –"

"And don't say anything about how my classwork is more important than visiting you," he said, holding up a hand. "You're more important than anything else, and besides, I got Lujayn to tell my professors that I'm sick today. She'll bring my homework, and they won't think I'm ditching." He grinned again and added, "Do you want to know how I got here?"

"The Knight Bus?" Rose asked, and she laughed when James made a face at her.

"Yeah, fine," he said, "but how do you think I got out of the school?" Before she could answer and ruin his surprise, he went on, "I used Dad's Invisibility Cloak. He gave it to me a bit after I took the map. That's why I think he knows I have it, since the two of them go together really well. He just made me promise to 'use it well', and I figured there isn't a better use than coming out to see you." James glanced over his shoulder. "I guess I ought to get going, though. Classes aren't more important than you, but I've got Quidditch practice today, and we have a game against Slytherin."

Rose sighed and flopped onto her pillows. The sudden motion made her head ache a little, but she ignored it. "This isn't about some stupid rivalry, is it? Because that doesn't even exist anymore. Longbottom and Baumhauer are best friends or something."

"It isn't about a rivalry," James said, rolling his eyes. "It's just that if we don't beat Slytherin, then we don't stand a chance against Ravenclaw, and they're really good this year." He bent suddenly and kissed her forehead. "You'd better come back after Christmas," he said quietly, and Rose thought she heard his voice shaking again. "We're going to win this year, and I'll be distracted unless you're there."

"I'll be there," Rose promised, and as James left, she could barely feel the chill behind her chest. She smiled and reached under her pillow, feeling the Marauder's Map. That night, she decided, she would look at it and keep an eye on her friends.


	13. Of Fiery Spirit

"Hey! Malfoy!"

Scorpius flinched at the sound of James Potter's voice, but he knew it would do no good to run. He likely wasn't quick enough to escape the older boy, and James would almost certainly know the castle far better than he did. He wouldn't be able to get far, and he wouldn't be able to hide, so the only thing he could do was stand his ground and hope Rose had sent a letter that could convince James to leave him alone.

From the look in James's eyes, though, he wasn't about to leave anything alone. He looked properly furious, and Scorpius found himself wishing he had actually practiced some defensive spells instead of just studying them. Ruby had offered to help him, but he hadn't thought he would ever need to know how to fight with magic. Now, with his palms sweating and his heart pounding, he thought that even a little jinx might do some good, though it might also make things even worse, since James would almost certainly know the counterjinx and how to get him back even better for casting the spell.

"What do you want?" Scorpius asked, and cursed his voice for squeaking.

James couldn't have missed how nervous Scorpius was, but he didn't seem to care, or at least, Scorpius couldn't tell whether he cared one way or the other. He only seemed angry, and when he grabbed Scorpius's collar and pushed him against the wall, Scorpius squeaked again, this time without words. His back was bent slightly against his book bag at an angle that would start to hurt before long, and he had to look up to meet James's gaze. He was too nervous to look anywhere other than the older boy's eyes, even though he thought he saw the fury building into rage.

"Rose is alive," James said, and Scorpius relaxed, though just a little. "She's alive, and she's going to be fine, and she'll come back at Christmas."

"Good," Scorpius said, hardly caring that his voice sounded higher than it had since before he was twelve.

"I wasn't finished." James's hand moved closer to Scorpius's neck, though not quite close enough to cut off his air. It was close enough to make Scorpius try to squirm away, though the only way he could go was further back against the wall, which made his back hurt even more. "She'll come back at Christmas, and she won't ever see you again. Understand?"

James hadn't needed to press against Scorpius's throat to keep him from breathing; the words were quite sufficient. Scorpius could only stare up at James, trying to figure out whether what the older boy said had been a threat.

James must not have liked Scorpius's hesitation, for he bent closer, close enough that his face was all Scorpius could see. "Do you understand?" he snarled, and for a single terrifying moment, Scorpius thought his life might be in danger.

"Yes," he gasped. "I do."

"Good." James released him then, and Scorpius slid down the wall, unable to find enough strength in his legs to keep from dropping to the floor. For a moment, he thought he might have fainted, but then he realized that he had only closed his eyes in some strange attempt to hide. Though he wanted to curl up as tightly as he could and keep hiding until James was gone, he couldn't help suspecting that the older boy would still be there, waiting for him to do something and gloating over his victory.

And it had been a victory. Scorpius couldn't deny that, although he felt sick at the thought that he had given up in defeat without fighting. He hadn't even considered the idea that he and James Potter were at war. It had simply been a given of his life that James Potter hated him because he was a Malfoy, and more recently because he had run while Rose stayed behind. What did it matter that Rose had told him to run, that she had been doing the sort of thing any Gryffindor ought to do? She had been brave and willing to sacrifice herself to protect a friend, and now he was willing to give up that friendship simply because he was afraid of her cousin.

Maybe that meant he didn't deserve her friendship. She'd been willing to fight for him, but he wasn't willing to do the same for her.

To hell with that.

Scorpius opened his eyes and saw that James was walking away. The anger he'd felt at himself sprang up even stronger when he realized he'd just been lying there, not bothering to do anything to defend himself or his friendship with Rose. It was something a coward would do, and even if he wasn't a Gryffindor, even if he didn't have the sort of strength Rose would have, that didn't mean he had to be weak. Face growing hot, he scrambled to his feet, trying not to come unbalanced from his heavy book bag. "Hey!" he called, clenching his hands into fists. "Potter!"

James froze, then turned slowly. Scorpius knew the smart thing to do would be to surrender and step away, or even to run, but instead he held his ground. His heart pounded in his throat, and his breath came quick and sharp. As James walked toward him, he thought about one of the days the year before when Ruby had been teaching them Muggle science.

_Adrenaline_, he heard her voice say in his head. _It's the body's reaction to stress. The fight-or-flight response_.

It looked like he was going to have to fight.

James stopped just a few inches away from him, and Scorpius had a moment to think about how ridiculous this situation would look to anyone who happened to be walking down the hall and spotted them. James, with his muscles developed from playing Quidditch and his powerful stance, standing not quite half a meter taller than a scrawny, pale boy with bright red cheeks. If it came down to a physical fight, it would be almost painfully obvious who would win. Even in a battle of magic, James would have the upper hand.

Scorpius still wasn't willing to back down, and he tried to draw himself up as tall as he could, though it was difficult with the bag hanging so heavily from his shoulder.

"What do you want?" James asked. "Do you want me to explain myself again?"

"I want to know how you're going to keep me from being friends with Rose," Scorpius said, wishing his voice wouldn't shake so badly. "You might be able to scare me away from spending time with her, but if she wants to be with me, what are you going to do?"

"I can tell her that she's better off without you," James said. "She'll listen to me. We're family. You're just some Slytherin she feels sorry for her."

"Your brother's a Slytherin," Scorpius said.

That was the point where he went too far, but he hadn't expected to reach it so quickly. He'd thought he might have time to test how much he dared to say, to find out how far he trusted himself to push before it reached the point where James would snap. He'd thought he would have a few minutes, but instead, as soon as the sentence left his mouth, he saw James's gaze turn hard and sharp. James grabbed Scorpius's collar, pulling him up onto his toes.

"Leave my brother out of this," he snarled, shaking Scorpius.

"I only said the truth," Scorpius gasped. "If you hate me because I'm a Slytherin, then what do you think of him?"

"I think he needs to be careful not to make any mistakes," James said. His grip on Scorpius's collar tightened, and it was all too easy for Scorpius to imagine that hand wrapped around his neck.

It would be far safer to keep silent and hope James simply decided to leave, but Scorpius could feel the words burning at the back of his tongue. He had already decided he didn't care what happened to him, so he asked, "Mistakes like what? Like being friends with me?"

"Exactly," James snarled.

"And why is that a mistake?" Scorpius's words came quickly, since he didn't know how long he would have to speak, and he grabbed James's wrist as though he could keep the older boy from striking him that way. "Is it because I'm a Slytherin? Or is it because I'm a Malfoy? I can't help either of those, any more than you can help being a Potter or a Gryffindor."

James's grip tightened again, and Scorpius's breath caught in his throat. He didn't think his life was in any actual danger, but he couldn't help thinking that he might stumble back to the Slytherin common room with a bloody nose and a black eye.

"It wasn't my choice," he said, as fiercely as he could.

Scorpius wasn't afraid anymore; he was simply mesmerized by the naked hatred in James's eyes. Perhaps this was what a mouse felt when cornered by a cat: not the fear of death but a strange fascination with something so much more powerful than it could ever dream of being.

"What are you trying to say?" James asked, his voice now low and dangerous. Scorpius had read that phrase in books before, but he had never realized exactly what it meant until just now.

"That if it wasn't my choice, then it wasn't Albus's, either," Scorpius said. "Neither of us asked to be Slytherins. The Sorting Hat just put us there. I don't know why. All I know is that I have to do the best I can with what I was given, and so will Albus." He didn't dare mention the theory that the Sorting Hat might be a Horcrux. James must have heard of them, given what his father had done, but Scorpius wasn't sure he would like the idea of Godric Gryffindor having made one. That would get him a black eye for sure.

"You didn't ask not to be Slytherins, either," James said. "That's as good as asking to be one."

"I didn't know that would do any good," Scorpius said, nearly stammering. Whatever it was about James that had mesmerized him before was fading, and he was starting to realize what a bad situation he'd gotten himself into.

"It worked for my father," James said.

"I didn't know," Scorpius said again, but his mind was no longer entirely on the situation he was in. If someone could ask the Sorting Hat to place him in a different house, and the Sorting Hat would listen, did that mean the hat could think? Or did it just mean the hat would respond to a certain stimulus to provide a certain response? He needed time to consider it, and possibly a book of some sort, or maybe Albus and Ruby. Albus would know what questions to ask, and maybe Ruby would know about some Muggle thing that could explain it all. He had to apologize to her, he decided, and as soon as he was out of this mess, he would.

James's voice brought him from his thoughts. "But Albus did. Dad tells us that story all the time. He should have known that he could ask the Sorting Hat to be in Gryffindor." James bent closer, so close his nose was only inches from Scorpius's. "Shouldn't he?"

Scorpius had never been involved in a proper fight before, and he had never known how exactly to deal with something so potentially fraught with interpersonal tension, but right now he could see it all. He was being let off the hook. If he said the right thing, James would let him go, and he could carry on with his day as he had planned to. He could meet Professor Longbottom by the greenhouses and help keep the hot felonwort from getting too cold. He could find Ruby and give her the sincerest apology Hogwarts had ever seen. He could run to Professor Zahradnik and ask if she knew that people could talk to the Sorting Hat and have it listen.

But James didn't look like the sort of boy whose anger could easily fade, and Scorpius had an uneasy feeling that he knew exactly where that anger would be directed if it wasn't at him.

Albus might be stronger than he was, but he still shouldn't have to face an angry James Potter.

"It doesn't matter," he said, tightening his grip on James's arm. "Why would he have been able to think of it? He was eleven and scared. We all were. Weren't you nervous about your sorting?" Of course he wouldn't have been, Scorpius realized as he spoke. He was James Potter, and he probably feared nothing. "Even if he had thought to ask, it might not have changed anything. What's wrong with ambition? If there wasn't any, then nothing would ever get done." He was babbling now, but he didn't care. He had to speak quickly to get everything out while James was still listening. "And I'm glad Albus is in Slytherin."

James raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Scorpius wasn't sure how much time he had bought with that declaration, or even if he had bought any time at all, but he was determined to take advantage of it if he could.

"He's my friend," he said. "You hate me because you think I'll be like my father. He didn't have anyone like Albus. Maybe if he had, things would have been different." He swallowed, trying to keep his throat from going dry. "Maybe if your father hadn't had a friend from his first day, things would have been different."

James's grip on Scorpius's collar tightened still more, and Scorpius could hear the fabric starting to tear. "Are you really going to compare yourself to my father?"

He already had, and there was no point in trying to hide it, so Scorpius nodded. He expected James to hit him even harder than he had before, but instead, James let go. Scorpius stumbled as he fell to the floor, and he only barely managed to keep on his feet. His legs were trembling and his book bag hung heavily off his shoulder, but he was unhurt, and he had a chance to catch his breath before whatever came next.

What came next was that James smiled, and it looked like a genuine smile. There was nothing harsh or mocking in it; he was simply glad, though what he was glad of, Scorpius couldn't have said. "You're bolder than I thought, Malfoy," James said. "Maybe you really are like my dad."

"Is that a good thing?" Scorpius asked, still trying to figure out if he was going to get beat up.

"Today it is." The smile turned into a grin, and James draped an arm over Scorpius's shoulder, though he did it so suddenly and with such force that Scorpius stumbled. "I didn't know you had it in you to be so bold. Maybe you're more of a Gryffindor than you think." His arm was close enough to Scorpius's neck to suddenly shift into a stranglehold, but somehow Scorpius didn't think that was what James had planned. Strange as it seemed, James was acting genuinely friendly, and Scorpius wasn't sure how he felt about it.

He also wasn't sure how he felt about the compliment, or even if it was a compliment. James probably meant it as one, but Scorpius had never particularly wanted to be a Gryffindor, even in part. "Because standing up for Albus was brave?"

"Because you stood up to someone who could probably beat you up without breaking a sweat," James said with a laugh. "It was brave and stupid, and that's exactly what Gryffindor means. You don't need to act like there's something wrong with it, and even if there was, it isn't catching. You've probably always been brave but just needed some way to show it."

"Oh," Scorpius said, not sure why his heart was sinking. "Great."

"It really is," James said. He released Scorpius's shoulders at the stairs, but only for a moment, before he turned Scorpius toward him and set a hand on each shoulder, as though he were talking to a younger brother. For just a moment, Scorpius considered pointing out that he was still a Malfoy, and perhaps Albus would prefer to have James look at him like this. "I still don't like you and Rose being friends, but if you're willing to stick up for her the way you just stuck up for Albus, I'll look the other way."

"I don't think Rose needs anyone to stick up for her," Scorpius said. She was probably the one who would have to stick up for him, and he was pretty sure she already had in her letters to James.

"That doesn't mean her friends shouldn't be willing to do the same," James said. He released Scorpius's shoulders again, and Scorpius took a quick step back, though he was still in reach of James, and the thought unnerved him. "See you around, Malfoy."

"Bye," Scorpius said, but James was already off, taking the stairs two at a time. Scorpius watched him leave, then turned and raced down the hall, his book bag slamming into the backs of his legs. He wasn't sure why he felt so panicked – he should have been glad that he and James might actually get along – but just then, he wanted nothing more than to get as far away as possible.

He had no idea what had just happened, and the only way he could think to get an explanation was to ask Albus, but he wasn't sure how to even begin that conversation. He wasn't even sure where to find Albus, since he and Ruby hadn't been in the library as often as usual.


	14. Of Knitting

Skeins of yarn were scattered around Rose's bed, so many that they almost formed another blanket. It was like having a nest made of rocks, she supposed, but much more comfortable, and sometimes she wished she could just burrow among them to fall asleep. Draco Malfoy had gently pointed out that it would probably be safer to store the yarn under her bed, and she had reluctantly agreed, though she had smiled as she helped pile the yarn into a bag for the first night. It was, admittedly, a little nice to have someone who showed a little worry for her. It seemed like he was doing it more than just because it was his job to make her better, and she almost wished James could come back just so she could rub it in his face that the Malfoys weren't the monsters he seemed to think they were.

More even than showing James, she wanted to show the rest of her family. They cared about her, of course, but they were a little too obvious about it. Half of Albus's letters were about how she should take care of herself, and her parents always seemed a little anxious when they visited. She couldn't blame them, but she could certainly feel justified in being annoyed.

Oddly enough, the one person who didn't seem to worry too much was Grandma Molly, even though just about every Weasley talked about her like she was some kind of mother hen. She worried, of course, but there was something very efficient about her worry. Over the past few weeks – she could very nearly say "the past few months" now and actually remember every day of them – Grandma Molly had been the one person aside from Draco Malfoy who didn't seem afraid that she would enter the room and find that Rose had gone.

In fact, as she came in today, she didn't even bother looking to the bed to check whether Rose was awake before pushing open the door and closing it behind her. "You could set this up as an office," she said, looking critically at the books and papers scattered everywhere. "How much work are you doing?"

"Enough," Rose said, though she wasn't entirely sure about that. She felt like there was so much more she could be doing, but lately she'd been getting tired more easily and letting her time go to waste. She could always make time for Grandma Molly, though, and so she closed her Arithmancy textbook and set it aside, on a rather precarious pile of other books. It wavered but didn't fall, and Rose didn't try to adjust it, nervous that it really would fall if she did.

Grandma Molly frowned a little. "You're just like your mother," she said. "She was always trying to do too much in a short amount of time, too. I always thought she would grow out of it, but she never did." She sat down in the chair beside Rose's bed and smile. "You need to learn how to manage your time, Rosie."

She and Grandpa Arthur were the only people who could still get away with calling her Rosie, and Rose wasn't afraid to correct anyone who thought otherwise. "I'll be fine," she said, and reached around under her bed to grab some yarn and her latest project. Christmas was still a long ways off, but she wanted to get a scarf done for Albus and was still having a little trouble switching colors as smoothly as her grandmother could.

Her grandmother pulled her own knitting project out of her bag and set to work untangling the yarn that had begun winding itself together. It made little screeches whenever she made a wrong move, and she muttered under her breath as she worked at a particularly difficult knot. "I'll never understand why your grandfather started doing experimental magic on my things. I almost miss that flying car."

"Maybe he thought there would be less unexpected danger from yarn," Rose said, not bothering to hide her grin. Grandma Molly shot her a disapproving look, but Rose was sure she didn't mind all that much. After all, given the way some of her uncles had acted when they were her age, she was probably incredibly easy to deal with. "What are you making?"

"A Christmas sweater for Lily," Grandma Molly said. "I thought I'd put a silver moon on there, and your grandfather agreed to make the silver yarn shine, but I don't think he got the spell quite right."

"I could help," Rose said eagerly. "If you just show me the spell he used, I could probably get it right." She didn't think her grandfather had made anything more than a tiny mistake, but even something tiny could have large consequences in complicated magic.

"I think I can handle it myself, dear," her grandmother said with a smile. "If you want, you could give me advice on whether Lily's eyes will look good next to blue. I can't do green with silver, though it would be nice to bring out her eyes. They're a lovely shade, aren't they?" The question was tossed out idly, and Rose knew she didn't have to answer it, so she looked down at her scarf, wishing she could give something more than fashion advice.

One of the good things about being bed-ridden, though there weren't many, was that she had all the time she wanted to be good at something. If she had been at Hogwarts, she wouldn't have had the time to learn how to knit, but now that there was almost nothing else to do, she'd found there were more hours in the day than she had realized. When she couldn't manage to read another page, or when she couldn't fall asleep, she would take out the scarf and knit. Sometimes she had to do it by wandlight, which led to dropped stitches, but slowly, she was getting better. It even looked pretty good, considering it was her first attempt.

As they worked, Grandma Molly would sometimes pause in her work to demonstrate some new kind of stitch, and Rose would lean over and look curiously at what she was doing, but she didn't understand much of what her grandmother was doing. It was interesting, though, and she tried to memorize the finger movements so she could practice later with some scrap yarn. Her memory wasn't photographic, but she was sure she could remember the basics, and she could always ask whether she had gotten it right later on.

"How is everyone?" Rose asked after a silence that had lasted longer than usual. When she had first started knitting, she had wanted silence so she could focus on the stitches, but now she found that she couldn't focus if it was just her and her thoughts. Conversation made it easier to think, somehow, or at least easier to let her fingers simply work.

"We're doing well," Grandma Molly said, not missing a beat in her stitching. "Your grandfather's been practicing charms on the silverware."

"Has he made them dance yet?" Rose asked eagerly, nearly dropping a stitch. She quickly turned back to her scarf and took out a few stitches, just in case, though she was sure she had probably gotten everything right.

"Not yet," Grandma Molly said, and Rose had to glance up to make sure she was smiling and not just annoyed with her husband. "Has he been planning to do that?"

Rose shrugged, not wanting to betray her grandfather. It wouldn't be an actual betrayal, she knew, but ever since she was little, she'd felt a bit of solidarity with him, since he'd had the easiest time of making her laugh, even among a family of Weasleys. He always seemed to have some great project to work on, and she had wanted nothing more than to see him succeed, even if that project changed every time she visited him. "He mentioned it a few times," she said.

"He hadn't said a word to me," Grandma Molly said. "Of course, I'm his wife. He probably knew I'd disapprove." She was still smiling, and Rose wondered why so many people in her family thought that she snapped at Grandpa Arthur so often. Maybe it was just that time had made her more mellow.

"Maybe he wanted it to be a surprise," Rose said brightly.

"If he ever does make them dance, I'll have him bring them here to show you," Grandma Molly said. "So far, he just fixed a few dents. He looked surprised that the spell didn't do more, but I didn't want to ask what he had been planning." She paused, counted stitches, then went right back to knitting. "Does he have any other plans I should know about?"

Rose shook her head, grinning. It felt strange to be involved in this little, harmless battle, and she kind of liked it. If she ever got married, she hoped her husband would be like Grandpa Arthur, someone who would delight her but who she could also fight with. A marriage where everything worked out perfectly might be nice, but it would also be incredibly boring, and the last thing she wanted was for her life to be boring. It would have a lot to live up to, given how exciting the past two years had been, but she was sure there would be plenty of other adventures for her to have once she got back to Hogwarts.

There would certainly be plenty for her to do. She'd been checking the Marauder's Map every chance she got, and something had been puzzling her lately. Scorpius always seemed to be on his own, and while that wasn't entirely unexpected, she'd thought he would spend most of his time with Albus and Ruby. Instead, unless he was in class or with either Zahradnik or Longbottom, he was completely alone. She couldn't tell whether she ought to be worried, so she decided she might as well worry a little. She didn't want to get back to Hogwarts only to find that her friends had stopped talking to each other. The four were hardly her only friends, but they were the ones she cared about most.

If she had to choose between them, though, she already knew who she would pick. She saw Albus all the time over breaks, and he probably wouldn't be bitter if she didn't spend as much time with him at Hogwarts. Besides, he had just about his whole family there now, and Scorpius was alone. She'd never stop feeling guilty if she abandoned him.

But that still left the question of Ruby.

Rose hadn't thought all that much about Ruby, or at least not about Ruby specifically. She'd only thought about her as part of the rest of the group instead of as someone separate, but if the group did split up, then Rose would have to deal with Ruby on her own if she wanted to see her again, and she very much wanted to keep spending time with her. They were friends, after all, even if Ruby was the only friend who made Rose feel as though there were little butterflies flitting through her stomach.

She dropped another stitch but didn't notice for several more minutes, and when she went back to fix it, she muttered curses under her breath, which earned her a disapproving look from Grandma Molly. "Sorry," she said, blushing.

"Is something on your mind?" Grandma Molly asked, returning to her usual look of calm. She must have gotten used to swearing around her children, but that also meant she'd had a lot of time to practice that disapproving look. Rose could certainly attest to the fact that it worked almost like magic.

"No," she said, redoing the row she had messed up. A few seconds later, she sighed and set down the scarf. "Yes. I'm worried that things will change before I can go back."

"Everything changes," Grandma Molly said. "That's the way the world works."

Rose frowned and poked the scarf with her little finger. It was obvious that it was her first try at making a scarf, but only when she had shifted between the green and silver yarns. Maybe she could take out the silver and just do everything in green, but with silver tassels. It would mean a lot of extra work, but she had plenty of time on her hands. "Is there anything I can do?"

"To keep things from changing?"

Rose shook her head, though that was exactly what she had meant. She didn't want to try to explain everything to her grandmother, though, since that would mean talking about the Marauder's Map, and Grandma Molly would almost certainly want an explanation for that. It had been made by some of the most notorious troublemakers Hogwarts had ever seen, and even if Grandma Molly wasn't one of the people who would insist that it belonged in a museum, she probably wouldn't trust it.

Grandpa Arthur certainly wouldn't. _Never trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brain_, he had told her years ago, and for a full month after that she had insisted on making sure she knew where to find the brain of anything she encountered.

Oblivious to her granddaughter's distraction, Molly went on, "That would be impossible, though I can see why you'd want to. Change isn't always for the best, and sometimes it means people grow apart from us."

Rose bit her lip. She didn't want to ask Grandma Molly about how to deal with losing someone – that might strike too close to something sensitive – but she wasn't sure how else to word it. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked finally. "I don't want to go back and find out that my friends have started fighting. Or something," she added quickly, just in case Grandma Molly might think that was a very specific fear.

Grandma Molly didn't seem suspicious at all. "Friends argue all the time," she said. "If I'd saved them, I could show you some letters your father wrote, where he was sure he would never be friends with Harry or your mother again. Ask him about those times when you see him again." She held up the sweater, which was nearly done, and nodded in satisfaction.

"It's just that we've been friends for a while," Rose said. "I don't want anything to change."

"How long is 'a while'?" Grandma Molly asked. She was folding up her things, and Rose realized she must have lost track of the time. She wouldn't have as long as she wanted to get advice.

"Well, there's Albus," she said quickly. "He's been my friend forever." Or at least longer than she could remember, which was close enough to forever for a fourteen-year-old. "I've been friends with Ruby since my first year, and with Scorpius since… last year, I guess." Though it felt like longer, as though they had somehow managed to be friends and rivals at the same time without her realizing it.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about," Grandma Molly said, getting to her feet. "Get some rest, Rosie. Next time, I'll show you how to make a sweater. Teddy and Victoire might like it if you made one for their baby."

Rose perked up at once. "Victoire's pregnant?"

"Not yet," Grandma Molly said, "but from the way those two are going, it won't be long." She smiled wistfully. "It's a wonderful thing to be young and in love."

Rose wrinkled her nose. "I tried that once. I didn't like it much." She had liked it at the time, she supposed, but the ending had been rather annoying, and she didn't particularly want to go through it again.

Grandma Molly laughed. "Someone will change your mind, dear. Now, get some rest. I'll see you again in a few days."

As soon as her grandmother was gone, Rose put her knitting aside and reached under her pillow for the Marauder's Map. It sometimes amazed her that it had lasted so long, but perhaps one of the original four had put some kind of charm on it to make sure it wouldn't start falling apart. She wouldn't put it past them; for all they were supposed to be lazy, they were apparently pretty brilliant.

She tapped the parchment with her wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Ink spread across the page, forming the interior of Hogwarts. By now, Rose was pretty much used to seeing it happen, but she still felt a brief moment of amazement before her attention turned to finding her friends. She supposed what she was doing was sort of like spying, but if it was for a good cause, then it was probably all right. What better cause was there than making sure the people she cared about most were all right?

With that thought, she looked first for James. Just as she had expected, he was with Lujayn, and considering how close their dots were, Rose figured they were snogging. When she spotted Albus and Ruby, she was surprised to see that their dots were close as well. They weren't as close as James's and Lujayn's, but they were still much closer than she had expected, and she couldn't help but think of the two of them kissing. For some reason, her heart sank, and she quickly stuffed the parchment away. A moment later, she pulled it out again, tapped it with her wand, and whispered, "Mischief managed." Everything faded away.

She lay back, all interest in knitting gone. She didn't know why she was making this into such a big deal, but she couldn't bring herself to feel anything other than a strange sense of dismay. It wasn't until she had pulled her blankets up around her shoulders that she realized she hadn't remembered to find Scorpius.


End file.
